((Takes place a little over a year after Reconciliation.))

Julian had always hated winter, even as a child. Winter was cold and dark and lonely, especially for a boy who had few friends and even fewer relatives - only a sister, who had loved him so much it had poisoned her soul. Even now, when nights were longer, affording those of his kind more hours to live; even now, when the cold was a mere nuisance that could no longer harm him; even now, when he could marvel at each individual snowflake that fell from the sky, he hated it. There was a reason people called it the "Dead of Winter", so quiet and cold sometimes that it seemed like Death itself had fallen over the landscape.

Even here, in the heart of London, where Julian had secured a safe place to live, it was too cold and too quiet, but feeding was rarely a problem. There were enough mortals willing to offer a taste of their blood, and he had learned how to do it without killing his meal, though there were times when even he was sorely tempted. Tonight, however, was not one of those nights. Tonight, he had gone out alone, leaving Anabelle behind to find her own meal. He had his reasons, though he had not yet shared them with her.

There were, thankfully, systems in place to allow their kind to find sustenance without danger. Though she chafed at being left alone with no explanation, Anabelle was slowly coming to accept this habit of her sire and lover. It was a habit that had driven them apart when she had been newly turned, so certain that he was visiting some unknown lover, her insecurities stoked by the spiteful vindictiveness of his sister until something snapped. Afraid to confront him then, she had fled, and spent two hundred years on the run, only to come back to him when he found her. All he'd had to do was ask, and she was his. And even now, despite the insecure pain she felt, she had let him go his way tonight, taking herself out into London's darkness to seek out a sanctuary where she could partake of a willing supplicant to renew her own strength. She had never taken an unwilling meal, thanks to Julian and, later, to Freya.

Warmed by the fresh blood spilling slowly through her, Anabelle walked through the London streets, remembering a time when this hour would have been quiet. Now it was loud, almost as loud as the day, until she found herself in the private gardens surrounding the home Julian had made here. Quiet and dark, this was the London she remembered, the memory bringing a soft smile to her porcelain smooth face.

By the time she returned, he was already there, as evidenced by the warm glow of light in the windows of his rooms that shone like a beacon beckoning her her home. It wasn't that either of them needed the lights so much as it was out of habit and a desire for ambiance. Besides, they needed to at least appear normal to the outside world or risk discovery. If she looked hard enough with her preternatural sight, she might even spy a familiar dark silhouette pacing back and forth in front of the windows.

Her eyes rose to find that familiar silhouette, her smile deepening with pleasure to find him already home before her. No doubt worrying over her safety, yet Serena would not dare to attack anyone in the midst of a busy thoroughfare in a city that no longer slept. Still, the thought of leaving her brooding sire to worry any longer than was necessary was repugnant to Ana, and she hurried to enter, stepping inside with fluid grace, always careful to keep her movements as human as she could anywhere they might be seen.

"Julian?" She spoke his name softly, not needing to raise her voice for him to know it was her.

He did not have to hear her voice to know she was there. He had felt her presence growing closer with every step she took in the direction of the house. Manor, really. It was too big to merely call a house, though they were the only ones who were here this time of night, the servants and such having dispersed for their homes hours ago. It was no secret that the master and mistress kept strange hours, but they were paid so well, few questioned it.

"I'm here," he replied quietly from his study, where he had halted his pacing at the sound of her voice.

Shedding her coat by the door, Ana made her way toward the study, knowing instinctively where he was even without the implicit invitation in his answer to her. It was a gift they had given one another the night they had reunited; the sharing of their blood, while giving each an insight into the mind and memories of one another, had also bound them closely. They could feel when the other was close in a way that transcended description. But even with the implicit invitation in his answer to her call, still she waited to knock on the door and be truly invited inside. The manners of her Regency upbringing were firmly rooted in her present mind.

By the time she reached him, he was seated near the fire - another habit born of an age past, neither of them needing the warmth or the light, though it still gave them both an odd sense of comfort. His fingers were steepled thoughtfully, against his chin as though he were deep in thought or worry so great he did not stir to greet her just yet.

Diamond and sapphire sparkled on her wrist as she reached out to gently touch the blue-black raven's wing darkness of his hair - her coming of age gift from him, when she had still had a pulse of her own. "What troubles you, my lord?" she asked him in her soft way, not taking the other chair but finding her accustomed place to sit on the floor beside his knee, wheat-blonde hair spilling back from her face as she looked up at him.

He would have preferred drawing her into his lap, but he did not, allowing her to warm to him as she would. Though he was undeniably her sire, he did not want to be her lord or master or even father. No, his love for her went far deeper, as did their connection to one another, but as yet, he had made no demands of her, save that she not leave him again. "She's here," he told her quietly, sliding his gaze to the window, knowing there was nothing either could do to avoid her forever - the vampire who had made him.

Anabelle stiffened, concern radiating from her as she watched his gaze slide away. He did not need to tell her who "she" was - Serena, his own sire, the insane vampire that had begun all of this with her possessive jealousy. "We must move on, yes?" she asked him quietly, her hand coming to rest on his knee, needing the comfort of his touch, though she did not know how to ask for it.

"Perhaps," he mused aloud thoughtfully, nibbling on his thumbnail - another old habit - and tilting his head as if he was listening for something in the still hours of the night when most of the mortal world around them was sleeping. "I can feel her presence, but I cannot say with any certainty where she is or how close." She was calling to him in her way, trying to draw him out, and for now, he was able to resist her, but it was wearying, even for him.

"She's summoning you." It wasn't a question. Ana knew all too well the power of the blood she shared with Julian, and knew too that he shared blood with Serena. What frightened her was the prospect that perhaps he would one day not have the strength to deny that summons. Would Ana then find herself all alone in the world, waiting for the death sentence that was Serena's jealous spite"

"Yes," he replied, not bothering to deny it. She could feel some of what he was feeling and would only know he was lying. He slid his gaze away from the window to touch his fingers to her cheek in a caress as gentle and tender as any lover. "Don't worry, dear heart. I am stronger than she thinks."

She relaxed as his eyes found hers, as his fingers ghosted against her cheek, visibly allowing her tension to fade as she tilted into his touch. "I'm not strong," she told him quietly, still very much a product of the era she had been born in. "I am frightened, Julian. I could not bear to lose you, or to be the reason you were harmed."

"Do you trust me, Ana?" he asked her, his eyes meeting hers, seemingly able to see into her very soul. Everything from this moment forward depended on her answer and, more importantly, on the honesty of that answer. They had shared more than most people did it an entire lifetime, and he had no intention on losing her now that he'd found her again - now that she was truly his.

While Julian reluctantly made use of new technology, Anabelle had embraced it. She left him to make his call alone in the study, taking herself to her own favorite room of the house - the beautiful garden conservatory that offered a view of their private greenery lit by moonlight and shaded with shadows. This was where her laptop lived; where her own telephone and tablet were kept; modern conveniences in a house that was definitely not modern in feeling. She kept them out of sight for his comfort, but she had enjoyed the emergence of technology over the last century, and she would continue to enjoy its evolution, she was certain of that. The prospect of visiting the New World was an intimidating one, but not one to fear. Not so long as she was with Julian.

There were times that last year or so since he'd found her that he wondered if he had, in fact, become far more dependent on her than she on him. He'd had four centuries to amass enough wealth to offer them both a relatively safe and comfortable life, and yet, he had not quite embraced the nuances of science as Anabelle had and he often depended on those around him to keep him abreast of such things. Traveling halfway around the globe to a place neither had ever been seemed a daunting task, and yet, a necessary one. Fortunately, his solicitor had connections and promised to make all the arrangements, but it would still be a day or so before they were ready to leave, which would give them time to pack and put their affairs in order.

It did not take long to contact a locksmith and the housekeeper. Mrs. Abernathy was one of the very few humans who knew the secret - the only member of the staff there who did. She accepted the need for changed locks without question, and understood the necessity of keeping all humans away from the house for an undisclosed amount of time. Thankfully, Anabelle had wealth enough to be able to keep all staff on a retainer that would not make them unavailable when the time came to reopen the manor once more. That done, she put her computers away, settling the telephone back into its cradle, and returned to the study.

"Mrs. Abernathy has everything in hand," she told Julian in her soft tone. "She is a very capable woman."

"She is a godsend," Julian agreed, though he was half-tempted to point out that Anabelle herself had proven herself more than capable. "Have you telephoned Freya?" he asked without looking up as he sat as his desk, going through a small sheaf of papers on his desk. There was not much that needed to be done before they could leave - money helped immensely where that was concerned.

"In a manner of speaking," she smiled faintly, moving to stand behind him. One hand came to rest on his shoulder as she leaned against the back of his chair - no matter where they were, what they were doing, she always found some way to touch him. "She is in the New World herself at the moment. She says she will meet us in New York."

That got his attention, one brow lifted as he glanced over his shoulder at her. "Is she" Has she added precognition to her long list of abilities?" he asked, just a hint of teasing lighting his face. "We are to meet with a Tobias Acton once we arrive in New York. Sheffield will make all the arrangements. Our flight leaves in a few hours, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Can you be ready?"

"You said we would go to New York," Anabelle laughed quietly, glad to see his mood lightening, even if it was at her expense. "I simply passed on the information." She bent to kiss his hair. "I can be ready," she promised him. "Who is Tobias Acton?"

"One of ours. An entrepreneur of sorts. Not so very old, but he knows the city," Julian explained, gathering up some papers and moving with fluid grace from his chair behind the desk toward the fireplace. It went without saying that if Tobias knew the city, he would know how to survive there. "They call it 'The City That Never Sleeps'," he added as he crouched down in front of the hearth and looked for a moment into the flames. Was it strange that he still liked to have a fire roaring in the hearth, though neither of them needed either the heat or the light' Fire was their enemy, and yet, somehow, it soothed him to watch the flames dance as if of their own accord, so long as the fire was carefully controlled, as this one was.

"I didn't know there were systems over there for our kind," Anabelle commented curiously. "Freya told me that there was no centralized governing body in the Americas, which is why so many of our undesirables end up there." The undesirables being vampires who could not, or would not, abide by the laws that kept their secret hidden from the human community across Europe and Asia.

"Not systems so much as connections, I think," he said, his gaze never straying from the flames as he fingered the sheaf of papers in his hands. Whatever they were, it seemed he was about to burn them. "We must make sure we leave no trail behind for her to follow, Ana," he said, turning his face to her at last, the flames casting ominous shadows across his face. "I would have the hunter become the hunted."

She nodded, easing herself down onto one of the chairs by the fire. "We disappear," she agreed. "It is not something either of us has no experience of, dear one. We do not need to take anything with us - apart from the necessary identification and money. Everything can stay here." Money did make life a lot easier.

"Money," he echoed in a derisive tone, chuffing a breath. "Do you know how much money this place is worth' I've had offers to sell it, offers to turn it into a museum. Can you imagine" Our home turned into some ridiculous tourist trap. It's obscene. I refused, of course." He turned his gaze to her again, his expression full of fondness and pride for the place they'd called home. "Everything here is mine, painstakingly purchased and collected for centuries. Everything. Do you know I have an original first edition copy of Gulliver's Travels? Literature, art, the furniture even....It is all priceless. There is no amount of money they could offer that would be enough. And now, we are to leave it all behind."

"Temporarily," she reminded him, slipping from her seat to kneel beside him in front of the fire. "We will come back, Julian. You cannot go into this believing that we will never see our home again. I don't believe that. We will come back, and we will be happy. But carrying cash and cards when we travel is essential. She could track us through those cards if she ever got hold of their details."

"You misunderstand my meaning, Ana," he said, motionless in his crouch in front of the fire, the papers still clutched in his hands. Or at least, she misunderstood what it was he'd been trying to get at, but though he was a capable hunter, as deadly as an asp, he savored the long nights of winter, relishing the extra hours, unhurried in knowing the sky would not lighten for many long hours. He had often thought it might be wiser to travel to where the nights were longer than stay in one place, but this was his home and he was reluctant to leave it. "All of these things will not buy us what our heart desires, Ana, and money is only a convenience which makes life easier."

"You are what my heart desires," she told him firmly. "I did not have to buy you, nor would I ever have tried. All I need is you, no matter where we are or what we are doing. Without you, my life has no point or purpose. Please understand, Julian. I could live without any of this, so long as I have you."

"You lived without me for two hundred years, love," he reminded her, fingers gently grazing her cheek, that sheen of dampness brightening his eyes once again. He wasn't sure why he was mentioning it again, when they were closer now than they'd ever been since he'd first found her all those years ago.

"That wasn't living," she shook her head in denial of his reminder. "I existed. I moved along. But I did not live without you. I didn't know if you would have me back, or if you would kill where I stood, but I decided that night to start living again, no matter how long that might be. I have been without you, and I will not go into that existence again."

"Perhaps we should make it official," he suggested, though it was really just a matter of legalities on paper. He had once passed her off for his daughter, giving her his last name in place of her own, but this past year, they had posed as husband and wife. They had even shared a bed, but only for sleeping. "I had Sheffield add you to my Will. If anything happens to me, all of this will be yours, but traveling overseas ..." He shrugged lightly, not quite knowing what to expect. No matter how wealthy they might be, there would be security and customs and all manner of scrutiny. It was dangerous, to be sure, but not as dangerous as staying.

"Julian, I am here because I choose to be here," she told him, firm and gentle but confident of her own mind. "Yes, you could have caught me at any time, but you let me make the decision to be caught. I am not a prisoner, I am not caged. You loved me enough to let me go, and I came back. The proverb is not wrong." She leaned close to him, nose to nose, arm to arm. "Shall we play something together now, love?"

He couldn't help but smile as she touched her nose to his, remember the silly Eskimo kisses they'd shared when she was just a child. He had loved her even then, but it had been a different kind of love. Now that she was a woman and nearly his equal in every way, he found that love had deepened into something he could not explain. "I think so, yes," he replied, his fingers finding their proper place on the keys. He hesitated a moment before letting his fingers move over the keys, picking out a melody he had written just for her when she had been a child.

Anabelle's own smile brightened into a delighted grin as she recognized the melody, raising her hands to the upper keys to echo the melody he played. She remembered him writing this, how delighted she had been when he had told her it was for her; how angry Rosalind had been when they had played it together, adapting and adjusting the simple tune until it was a duet only they could play with any form of success. "Our song," she murmured, tilting her head to his shoulder briefly as she found his rhythm among the notes.

"You remember," he said, his lips curling into a handsome smile that made him look almost young again, as she joined him, his fingers moving over the keys alongside her. His thoughts did not stray to that of his sister, the jealousy of Anabelle having poisoned her heart. Rosalind had wanted more from him than he'd been able to give, wanting him to sacrifice this sweet angel at his side so that she was the only one who could claim his heart. It was a sickness in her that that finally ended in her death, and though Anabelle had fled worrying he would hate her for what she'd done, in truth she had only freed him from the claim his sister had insisted she held on him.

"How could I forget?" She smiled back to him, a secretive look on her face that suggested she had something he might like to see or hear. She would not show him until they had finished their private recital, however. "It was my lullaby every morning you were not there."

"Your lullaby?" he asked, curiously, turning his gaze to her, even as his fingers moved over the keys. He knew the song well, even after all these years, and did not have to look to know where his fingers belonged.

Her smile betrayed the fact that, had she been mortal, she would have been blushing once again as she watched her own fingers moving with his over the keys. "I sang it to myself every morning before I slept," she confessed with a shy shrug. "And later, I recorded it, so I could fall asleep listening to your music."

His fingers stilled on the keys, though the song was not quite finished, a small frown touching his face. He dared not look at her, not wanting her to see the tears that were starting in his eyes, though she'd seen them often enough before. "Not a day passed that I did not think of you, that I did not miss you, that my heart did not ache for you." But what did all that matter, now that she was here"

The song was completed under her fingers, a delicate ending to a full sound that seemed to taper off as she turned her eyes to his face. "Julian ..." She eased just that little bit closer, stroking her fingers against his cheek as she pressed to his side. "You will never have to ache for me again. Never."

They had spoken of all this ad nauseum over the last year since she'd returned - since he'd found her in Copenhagen and brought her back here to be with him. Never, he knew, was a very long time, but he wanted to believe her. If there was anyone he trusted, it was Anabelle. "What you said earlier, about us sharing a surname. It is true. I gave you that name when you were a child, when you were my child. It was the only way to keep you safe, but now ..." He reached for her hand, noting the lack of a ring, though she still wore the bracelet he'd given her for her eighteenth birthday. He abruptly moved to his feet, pulling her along after him. "Come with me."

Startled by his sudden movement, she stumbled as he drew her up with him, the piano abandoned in favor of whatever else it was he had suddenly decided to do. "Where are we going?" she asked, skipping to keep up before she fell into step with him, her hand ensconced in his securely. After all, she had something she wanted to share with him herself.

"The bedroom," he replied. Not his bedroom or her bedroom, but the bedroom - the one they shared, the one they retreated to each day when the sun first turned the black of night to shades of gray. It was there he kept his most precious treasures, hidden away even from prying eyes. He untangled his fingers from hers once they entered the room and he went to a painting on the wall which depicted a sunrise in all its glorious colors. He had painted it himself from memory, the only sunrise either of them would ever witness again. He pushed aside the painting to reveal a small safe that had been hidden behind it where he kept his most treasured possessions, safe from the prying eyes of servants who might be tempted by such things.

At a loss as to what she may have inspired in her often close-mouthed companion, Anabelle leaned herself against the post of the bed to watch him as he opened the safe hidden behind the sunrise. She knew the combination, but she had never had cause to open it, preferring to let Julian keep his secrets. They knew one another too well to ever think the other would keep a secret that was harmful. "We should take the contents with us," she said thoughtfully. "Treasures should never be left behind."

"We will," he replied, as he turned the dials to open the safe, though there was only one bauble there that he truly treasured. He carefully drew it from the safe, not even a flash of sparkle before his fingers closed around it, and he turned back to find her watching him with curious eyes. If she had ever wondered this past year what he kept in the safe, she had never asked, and he had trusted her not to pry. He held out his free hand to beckon her toward him.

The private nature of the safe, combined with the curious eagerness he seemed to radiate, made Anabelle's smile just a little suspicious, however fondly it was held. She pushed from her lean, moving toward him as he beckoned to her. "Is this where you tell me you found the lost royal treasures of King John and have kept them hidden all this time?" she teased him gently.

"Not hardly," he said, laughing; a rare thing from him - a happy sound that surprised even him. He could not remember the last time he had laughed, and he realized he was afraid of it - afraid of being happy. Every time he'd dared embrace happiness, it had been ripped from him, leaving him lonely and empty, but not this time, he vowed. He would not let anyone ruin his happiness - their happiness - not Serena, not Freya, not anyone. He reached for her left hand, uncurling his fingers to reveal something sparkly, which he carefully drew over her knuckles onto her third finger, where it rested perfectly as it it belonged there. The ring sparkled with diamond and gold, a royal blue sapphire at its center fit for a queen.

Just the sight and sound of his laughter was gift enough for her, drawing her brighter smile forth as he drew her left hand into his grasp. She almost missed the sensation of cool metal conforming to her knuckle, glancing down only to gasp. "Julian ..." Her fingertip touched the sparkling ring, recognizing it as belonging to the set her bracelet must have come from. Dark eyes rose to meet his, astounded and touched. "How long have you had this?"

"Long enough," he told her, an almost bashful smile on his face, though he did not openly admit just how long the ring had been in his possession. "I had it made for you and have kept it safe these many years in hopes you would one day wish to wear it." It was not just an adornment, but worn on her left hand, it marked her as belonging to someone - belonging to him.

It fitted her perfectly. Her smile softened as she took in his bashful expression, moving closer to gently touch her lips to his. "I would have worn it the day you made me, if only you had asked," she whispered to him, sharing more of her heart in that one moment of softness than she had before now. She had been his long before he had allowed himself to think of her as more than simply the little girl he had taken in.

"Money is virtually invisible now," he said, going to his own chest of drawers to pack a few changes of clothing. Most of what they needed could be easily purchased once they reached their destination. He didn't worry too much about investing himself - he had hired people to do it for him, and from the looks of things, he had few complaints.

"That is very true," she said with a smile, her rather obsessively folded choices coming out of the chest to lie beside her bag on the bed. "In some ways, it is easier, and in others, it is a lot harder." She opened the door to their shared closet, rummaging for shoes and a spare coat.

"I don't think it will be necessary to empty the safe," he told her, as he carefully folded a few suits and laid them in the bag. "I can leave instructions with Sheffield to have them deposited in a safety deposit box." It made more sense that way than hauling the bulky items with them, which would likely be difficult to sell anyway.

She nodded in agreement. "That does make more sense." Moving back to the bed, she started to pack her own bag. It was always just a little sad, having to pack a bag and know you would not be coming back for a while to come, but there was comfort in knowing that they would be coming back. "What time does the flight leave?"

"Around ten o'clock. Sheffield made all the arrangements. If there are no delays, we should arrive around one a.m. There should be someone waiting for us when we arrive," he explained, trusting his solicitor implicitly and paying her accordingly.

Anabelle nodded once again. It was good to know that Sheffield was on top of things, though she'd never had the opportunity to put a face to the name. "The car should be arriving any time now, then," she mused, glancing at the clock. As she did so, her preternatural hearing caught the sound of unfamiliar footsteps on the frosted grass beneath their window. Her head snapped around, dark eyes wide as she sought Julian's gaze. No one came here after dark, and no one came here at all who was not known to them both. "Company."

"So I heard," he replied, as he finished shoving the final few items into his bag before straightening and moving to the window to listen for the telltale sound of voices with his own preternatural hearing. He wasn't sure who was poking around the manor this time of night, but they were unlikely to be friendly.

There was only one voice, and it was for their ears alone, spoken in a tone only one type of person knew for certain they would hear. "Anabelle ....come out to play."

By the bed, Anabelle stiffened, fear flooding her as she stared fixedly at the bag in front of her. But the voice went on, the tone changing to something that might almost have been loving, if not for the hint of madness at its edges. "A warning, my darling Julian. Be careful not to upset me, turtledove."

The sudden snap of bone made Anabelle jump, almost missing the unnaturally fast footsteps that betrayed their visitor fleeing the scene, gone before the thump that betrayed the warning left behind on the grass.

Julian knew that voice anywhere, whether the words were spoken aloud or merely in his head. He'd felt her close, but he hadn't expected her to be that close. Serena. If she knew where they were, why this game of cat and mouse" "We need to leave without delay," he told his companion as soon as it seemed the other vampire had fled the scene. It wasn't fear for himself, but for Anabelle that terrified him. He had no doubt she had left a calling card for them in the form of a body, but who had been the unfortunate victim, he did not know.

Ana's dark eyes shone with guilty tears. She had a horrible feeling she knew at least part of the answer to the question she had to ask. "Who did she leave outside?" she asked in a shaken whisper.

"I don't know," he replied, clenching his jaw, but it seemed they were about to find out. They couldn't call the police, and it wouldn't look good for a body to be found on the grounds with them gone. "Damn her to hell!" Julian exclaimed suddenly, slamming a fist against the wall hard enough to put a hole in the plaster.

She jumped at his sudden exclamation, moving at speed to restrain him before he damaged any more of the house, or even himself. "There's no time for that," she told him. "Call Sheffield again. They can deal with ..." She glanced out through the window, and felt a ball of ice settle deep in her stomach. "With her." The girl lying on the grass, her head at a terrible angle, looked just like Anabelle herself. That was one hell of a warning.

If he wasn't so worried for Anabelle's safety, he might have had it out with Serena right then and there. "This has to end, one way or another," he said, between clenched teeth, every muscle in his body tense, like a panther ready to attack its prey. "I am going to get you somewhere safe, and then I'm going to finish it." He didn't want to look out the window and see the gift Serena had left for them - another innocent victim of Serena's madness.

"No, you are not," Anabelle told him firmly. "We are leaving here, and we will find a way to finish this together. You are not leaving me anywhere, Julian Stafford." The expected sound of a car pulling up made itself known. "Bags, coats, we're leaving now."

"That girl down there is innocent!" Or at least, he assumed she was innocent. From the look of things, it looked like her only crime had been bearing a vague similarity to Anabelle. "I am not going to allow this to go on, Anabelle. She needs to be stopped." And there was only one way to stop her, though he had to admit, he might not be able to handle Serena alone.

"Julian." She took his face in her hands, forcing him to look into her eyes, to see how frightened she was at having his insane sire so very close to them and to know now for a fact that Serena wanted her dead. "Don't do this right now. Please, I need you to be calm. Because I am frightened, and I can't be away from you, especially when I am frightened. Please, let's just go. The car is here."

Forced to face her as she pleaded with him and see for himself the fear in her eyes, he pushed aside the hatred and rage that was simmering inside, regaining control of his emotions, and nodded his head in agreement. "Very well, but stay close. I can still feel her nearby. She hasn't gone far," he told her.

She nodded, all her trust in him as she drew back to take up their bags over one arm. Though Serena was near, with luck she would not be near enough to follow them without arousing suspicion in anyone who might see her. "Let's go, then," she said softly, her tone shaken. She would not relax until they were in the air now.

"I need to lock up the safe," he told her, but it would only take a moment as they had to pass it on the way out. He reached for the heaviest of the bags, which was his, everything else he needed already on his person. "I'll call Sheffield on the way to the airport," he informed her. There was no time for dawdling or coddling now - time was of the essence.

"Of course." As he moved to the safe, she was quick to collect her coat and keys, knowing that the only door in the house that needed to be locked on their departure was the front door. They were in the habit of keeping every possible entrance to the house locked securely, no matter what. One hand snagged the USB music player from the sound system, tucking it into her pocket as she reached for him.

He glanced out the window again, sweeping his gaze across the lawn and pausing to see if he could feel Serena's presence, but it seemed she had gone. Still, he would not be able to relax until they were in the air and he knew they were safe. God help them if somehow she found out where they were headed. Satisfied Serena was not close enough to be a danger, he took hold of Anabelle's hand and lead her through the house, stopping only once to secure the safe, before heading for the front door.

There seemed to be no sign of her, at least none that Anabelle could hear or see, and even her calling card had been thoughtfully left out of sight of the driveway. The private car Sheffield had sent for them was waiting, the driver patient enough to let them take their time before he got them settled on the back seat, their belongings in the trunk. As the car pulled away from the house, Anabelle slid over the seat, tucking herself close into Julian's side. "We will finish it," she promised him shakily. "Just not tonight."

"No, not tonight," Julian agreed, tucking her close against him, one arm around going around her shoulders, as he buried his face in her hair. "I swear I won't let her hurt you, dearest," he assured her gently, his heart heavy with guilt over the blood of innocents. This was no longer about revenge, but about survival - perhaps, it always had been.

As the car pulled through the busy streets of London toward the private airfield that was their next stop on a new journey, Anabelle nodded, closing her eyes as she held on tight. She could see the face of Serena's victim in her mind, a girl who looked so much like her they might almost have been twinned. A girl whose living heartbeat had been ended purely for that reason. It sickened her, the guilt seeping into her being as she huddled close to Julian. This had never been about revenge, not for her. But perhaps now ....with the lives of innocents laid at her feet, Anabelle had a reason to be angry.

Survival was enough, for now, but the day was coming when Serena would learn how foolish it was to attack a loving pair. And then she would know fear. That alone was worth all this ....if they could just win a little more time to plan with. The New World beckoned.

((You know, we had thought these two were a failure, but it turns out that first scene was just massively draining and they're actually quite a lot of fun! Huge thanks to Julian's player!))