Heartbeats through the rock; he heard them, scraping against his senses, so loud, too loud. The burning sensation on his chest was unbearable, pitched to a searing level that made him gnash his teeth and drive his fingers through stone. Heartbeats, frantic pulses, and blood, blood, blood pumping, shielded by a wall of stone. Not for long. Muscles twitched, heaving, pulverizing stone to dust, the work of the elegant virus that flooded his veins.

The rock melted away beneath his group. Heartbeats surrounded him. A fresh flare of heat burst from the burning area on his chest, like touching the sun. The pain made him pause, staring at the pulsing blood bags through a wavering crimson haze.

A squeal filled his ears. Arms closed around him.

He froze, surrounded by honey and sunshine. The burning sensation eased to a pinprick of light, piercing through the veil of bloodlust and rage straight through to his core. Something fluttered inside, a struggle renewed. He wrapped his arms around her, palming the back of her head, fingers threading through her curls. She was filthy, covered in dirt and dust, her face sticky, still coated with patches of fake beard, and a flaring rash across her chin; she was the best thing he'd ever seen. Eugene shuddered. He felt the rage drain out of him, his irises fading to their usual dark brown as he carefully held her tight against him.

"What--what just happened?" A faint, whining male voice made his ears twitch.

Awareness prickled.

Eugene looked up to find the tavern master inches away, eerily still as he stared at them. His blue eyes seemed to glow in the dim light. The man's position was awkward, as if he'd stopped himself mid-leap, caught off balance.

"I don't think that'll be necessary Yosepf," said Mack.

"Are you certain?" A light voice said behind him. Eugene forced himself not to react to the masked man hovering at his shoulder, a glinting needle visible against his gloved fingers.

Before Mack could answer, Calponia lifted her face toward the masked man.

"Don't make me drop kick you" she threatened, shaking a finger at his elongated mask. "Don't think I won't. I managed it before."

"I'm certain," said Mack, dryly.

"Excuse me, lovely reunion and all, but we're still in mortal danger here," said the unpleasant whining voice. Eugene frowned at the waif-like male on the muddy ground.

Mack cracked his neck. "Right, imminent doom. Let's make a hasty exit stage left, shall we?" The tavern master used the rising mud at their feet to smear a door onto the crumbling rock wall. There was a pause. Eugene could have sworn Mack held his breath.

Warm whiskey and hops scented the air. A crack of light traced the drawn doorway, a moment before the stone slab swung inward to the golden glow of the Edgewise common room. An older bearded man swung toward the doorway, slamming his tankard on the bar as he shuffled off his stool with a staggered expression.

Mack gestured for the group to enter with a flourish. The annoying man didn't hesitate, stumbling forward to embrace the old man. The others limped, until only Eugene, Mack, and Calponia remained. The water was rising, nearly to the top of his boots, and Calponia still hadn't let him go. To his great shock, she shivered violently as she hugged him, releasing a soft sob against his shoulder. His hand ran in a soothing motion up her back without any conscious thought. Mack gave him an unreadable look, clearly unhappy about something but he laid a hand on Calponia's shoulder.

"Come on, Cal, time to go home," he said.

The words made her stiffen. She pulled back, rubbing her face on her torn sleeves. "Sorry," she muttered, though who or what she was apologizing for he couldn't be sure. She shuffled toward the door. He watched her go, rubbing his chest where the burn had cooled to a bone deep ache.

His gaze was still glued to her retreating form as Mack leaned in. "We need to have a conversation, your majesty," the tavern master hissed.

His attention flicked to the much taller man for a moment. A flicker of annoyance presented a crimson flare across his irises. Calponia crossed the threshold of the Edgewise. The tavern rafters groaned with alarm. The woman toppled over.

His pulse tripped. Not clumsy feat, but a boneless fall. Mack's eyes widened as he whipped around, racing forward with Eugene on his heels. They both felt it, heard it. The abrupt inner silence in the long dragging absence of her heartbeat.

The hooded figure watched them through the vacated Veil, twirling a thread that was not a thread between his fingers. Lips pursed in amusement, he watched Calponia fall, the results of the spell catching up to her at last.

He had to admit, her resilience surprised him. She was far more attuned to the push and pull of the bête noire than that sodding idiot realized. An ignorance that could cost him if he wasn't careful. The thread that was not a thread twisted in his grip, only made tangible by his unfocused attention on it. What he had not anticipated was the effects of its removal. He didn't think the connection ran so deep, so vital.

My bad.

The non-thread twitched. He tightened the vise of his fingers. Better than a map or key, he held an answer, a cipher to a code he'd long attempted to crack. The Heart would be his.

And the Edgewise would lead him straight to it.

"What did you do?" The vampire had the nerve to snap at him.

Irritated and with far too much at stake for lovesick bloodsucker blustering, Mack snapped his fingers. "Yosepf I changed my mind," he said, dropping to his knees beside Cal.

The Blood Prince didn't have a chance to make a full turn toward his new threat when a sliver a metal embedded itself in his neck.

"Bastard," he snarled with a snap of teeth as he slid down the wall.

"Paralysis will last one hour," said the alchemist, his tone somehow cheery beneath the mask. "Side effects may include dry mouth and temporary aphasia."

The vampire strained. "Blay shalla melt," he sputtered.

"Yes, like that exactly," said Yosepf.

Mack ignored them, pressing his fingers to the side of Calponia's neck. She was frighteningly cool to the touch. He cursed inwardly. This was his fault, letting himself grow distracted by the damn vampire's theatrical entrance. His apprentice tossing herself into his lap like live rabbit in a snake pit made him forget what he saw. Or didn't see.

"What happened to you, Cal?" He murmured, his fingers fluttering over her until he flinched, sensing a touch of foreign magic under his touch. Carefully peeling back her shirt, he stared at the gray handprint branded into her flesh. "The hell?"

"Tagged and bagged, I'd say," said Prospero, his bushy head brushing against Mack's shoulder. "My son's say the young lady saved them, perfectly fine until she set foot inside. How did she last so long with that draining her?"

Mack studied the shape of the magic. His eyebrows rose. "Because it wasn't aimed at her. It was draining the bête noire."

Prospero's eyes widened. "A curse carrier. Those are awfully rare, specially for one so fatal." He frowned. "But if this was aimed at her curse, why has it stopped her heart?"

"I....I don't know," said Mack. An unwelcome thought rose, as if he should know the reason for this, should remember something in relation to what was happening to his apprentice, and couldn't. The gap in his memory set his teeth on edge.

"Amet suet sane," Eugene snapped, briefly jerking his body against the paralysis.

"Now really, there is no use speaking until the Aphasia's cycled through," said Yosepf, perched on the table beside him. The alchemist tilted his head. "Your metabolism has a higher processing rate than I originally calculated. Shall I increase the dosage?"

"Leave off," said Mack, laying his palm over the mark. Restart her heart, that was vital. He'd wasted precious seconds trying to decipher the Why. The innate magic inside him flickered, a guttering flame beyond exhausted, his reserves far too low for what he needed to do. Would the tavern be rested enough to aide him?

"I need you," he said to the Edgewise. The tavern answered his call immediately, fizzing warmth flooding his system so fast he hissed. It was like coming home to a roaring fire after wandering through a blizzard for days. He focused the flow of the Edgewise's power, pouring it into his apprentice. Relief flushed through him at the first weak beat of her heart. It grew stronger under his touch, the draining spell melting away under the Edgewise's influence until Calponia drew a breath.

A collective release of tension swept the room. Mack looked up to find the others hovering nearby, watching intently as Calponia took a few more deep breaths, still unconscious but very much alive. To his surprise, the vampire had inched closer. Either the alchemist had grossly miscalculated or there was another factor in play. Mack's jaw set. As if he didn't have enough problems already. But the tavern had revitalized him, which made him wonder how long they'd been away dallying on Arden.

"See her to her rooms, please," said Mack. The Edgewise complied; Calponia sank into the floor, the wood grain rippling in her wake. The tavern master turned to his guests with a warm smile. "Welcome to the Edgewise. I ask that you abide by our rules while in attendance. I extend the full hospitality of the tavern to you. Ask for what you need, and you shall receive. There is a medkit behind the bar to see to your injuries. Use the Ambrosia gel sparingly, it packs a wallop." He bowed to the stunned group before lifting his blazing gaze to the vampire. "Eugene, may I see you in my office."

The vampire flinched and rose to his feet. If the alchemist was bothered by the rapid shake off of paralysis, his surprise was hidden beneath his mask.

"I think I will help myself to the bar," Yosepf muttered. The others blinked owlishly after the two men as they retreated to Mack's office.

To his credit, Eugene entered the office without a fuss.

"Privacy please," Mack said to the ceiling. He waited a breath before he snagged the vampire's arm and threw him across the room. He threw enough power behind it to flatten the Blood Prince against the boards. "You're lucky Lady Agatha dispatched a Purge Squad on Arden."

He increased the pressure, observing as Eugene receded into a crimson glare.

Mack pursed his lips. He wasn't sure he could call what he saw Valentiniaus either. "Better reign it in, your majesty, before I'm forced to reduce you to a red stain on my wall."

The vampire twitched at 'your majesty', the rage ramping up to such a level he was certain would cause the man to either hulk out or stroke out. To the tavern master's consternation, Eugene closed his eyes, breathing deep before sagging back against the wall. When the vampire met his gaze, his irises still flickered but there was a modicum of control there.

Mack sighed. "Take care of matters back home?" He kept his tone light. Eugene looked away from him, speaking volumes without uttering a word. Mack sucked on a tooth, making at face at the taste of dirt still lingering in his mouth. "How long were we stuck in that godforsaken realm?"

Eugene swallowed. "Over a month."

A lot could happen in a month, especially in the violent power scheme of the Blood Empire. The power plays were the most brutal in the royal family, disputes settled in ritualistic duels that usually ended with teeth to the throat. Consuming a fresh strain of the virus through another's blood had a tendency to play havoc on a vampire's aggression and control. The Blood Prince, while notorious, was rather low on the royal totem pole. Mack mentally counted off the emperor's horde of spawn, both legitimate and not. He reckoned, by last count, Valentiniaus was approximately 15th in line to the throne.

"You told me knowledge of the incursion went straight to the top, that the emperor himself allowed it to happen. I know how vampire politics work, your majesty. How far away are you from the throne these days?"

There was shame in that expression. In the centuries since Eugene first graced the Edgewise's doorway, Mack knew the vampire didn't possess an ounce of ambition in his veins. Before he connected the vamp to his infamous counterpart, he knew of the Blood Prince's brutal reputation, but the Prince never attempted to advance through the ranks.

"Fourth," Eugene whispered, his shoulders rolling inward at the admission.

Mack sighed with a noisy gush of air. That was a lot of killing. "You shouldn't have come."

There was another flicker of red over black, a swirl of blood and shadows. "I had to."

It was the way he said it that incensed Mack's anger, a fresh wave simmering inside him. "You left a trail of bodies, on a world that had no defense against you." His voice was deceptively calm but the rafter's shivered. "I should exile you from the tavern."

The vampire looked away, the muscles of his jaw flexing, but he said nothing.

Mack crossed his arms over his chest, mulling over his options. In truth, he couldn't banish the Blood Prince, that was something only the Edgewise could do. Not that the vampire knew that. There were other reasons that tempered Mack's anger. Eugene was possibly one of the longest surviving patrons the Edgewise had, with a personality he'd cultivated under Mack's watchful eye. He knew the vampire well enough to almost count him a friend. A woefully low count at that, due to a quandary of longevity both of them possessed. The thought made him frown. He eased into the seat at his desk, releasing Eugene.

"She's mortal," said Mack.

The vampire sat on the floor next to him. "And yet, you made her your apprentice."

"So I did," Mack chuckled. "Guess we're both idiots."

Eugene bowed his head. "I suppose we are."

Mack lifted his gaze to the rafters, feeling the energy of the Edgewise focused upstairs, soothing Calponia in her sleep. He needed information, to grill Prospero's boys about what she encountered on Arden. There was a tension in the malted air of the tavern, a coming conflict that left him bereft. He had a feeling he'd need all the allies he could get....

Mack paused.

"Did you see the Munch?"

Eugene cocked his head. "There was a distinct lack of curmudgeon in the room."

The tavern master rose to his feet, exiting the office. The group froze at the sight of him, like a herd of deer in headlights. They didn't breathe until the vampire stepped out behind him. Mack scowled at them.

"What were you expecting?"

There was a brief pause.

"Some light murder?"

"Possible flaying?"

"Fangs ripped from his head?"

"That's just cruel, Ariel."

"Heathens, the lot of you," Mack muttered, snatching a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar. He pulled the cork free and drank a healthy mouthful straight. Wiping his mouth on his filthy sleeve, he addressed Prospero. "Did the other patrons mention how long they'd be away?"

Prospero frowned. "Other patrons?"

Mack set the bottle down hard enough to crack the bar top. "You haven't seen them?" They'd been gone a month. A feeling of unease churned the whiskey in his stomach.

"'Fraid not," said the old sorcerer. "Except for a brief encounter with the vampire, I hadn't seen another soul."