Through a veil of fine mist, a flock of crows flew into view and perched upon the windowsill of Lord Vincent's castle. The birds peeked through the foggy glass. Their beady black eyes stared right at the feast upon the elaborate dinner table and all the fine offerings upon it.

Yet the lord and his companion were oblivious to the inky-winged birds. Both men were lost in the presence of each other.

"You are ravishing." Lord Vincent's gaze moved seductively over Kylo. Were he to live a million years, he wanted this man by his side. Kylo had made the lord's dead heart beat again.

Across the roast pheasant, the candied plums and the sugar-sprinkled pies, Kylo smiled. "It is but a trick of the night, my lord." Though Vincent had long since asked Kylo to simply call him by his birth name, he often uttered the lord's title as if it were a psalm - one sacred to his lips and much too beautiful to cast away.

Eying the way the lacy shirt clung to Kylo's body, Vincent uttered, "The night is a tricky one indeed, yet she would not dare try and fool me."

"The way you speak has always enchanted me, ever since that evening when I first met you." Kylo thought back to the night of the masquerade ball. He had sneaked out of his wicked stepmother's house to go to the lord's place where the party was taking place. When he was caught for trespassing by the guards, Kylo feared a beating. But Lord Vincent had taken pity on him. He took Kylo him in, led him to his room and gave him fine clothes to wear. But what Kylo had fallen in love with the most was a pair of exquisite angel wings that Vincent had placed upon his back. A pair of wings the stepmother had used to beat him brutally with. The wings were destroyed. Nothing was salvageable.

When Vincent had come to Kylo's step-family's home a few nights later to rescue him, Kylo believed he was dreaming. Vincent had slaughtered the horrid family and took Kylo away, saving him. Together they fled to Venice where under a starry sky were led to the lord's castle.

"Under twilight's scorn I was waiting for love," Vincent said in a hush, his words barely making it halfway across the table. Kylo's human hearing could not possibly pick up the confession.

Under the flickering of candlelight, Kylo asked, "Do you miss Germany?" Looking across to Lord Vincent, Kylo's gaze skated over the splendid banquet which had been set out for them. But only he ate.

Curling his fingers around his glass, the lord addressed Kylo. "Only the concerts, my angel. The string quartets and operas." Raising a brow, Vincent questioned, "Do you miss Germany?"

"Miss?" Kylo scoffed as he set his dinner fork down. "What is there possibly to miss about a place where most of my life was utter hell?" When Kylo saw Vincent purse his lips, he added, "The only good part was meeting you..." He wanted to reach across and touch the lord's hand. "You saved me."

"Angel," Vincent's voice dove into a deep baritone, "it is you who saved me. Do you know where I would be were it not for you?"

Kylo shook his head.

"Lost."

Vincent pushed his glass away. Kylo knew there was no red wine in it as there was in his. His lord's glass was full of blood.

"We were both a little lost," Kylo said. "In need of salvation."

From across the table, Vincent sighed. "Perhaps we were, my angel."

The night trickled around the lord's castle. Venice stood as silent as a tomb as it did most nights in November when the air grew thick in mist and it felt as though there was no one left in the world.

In the flickers of shadow playing on Venice's streets, Vincent would see the stepmother and step-sisters, screaming and bleeding. He could still feel the horrid stepmother's heart beating then dying in his palm. The way her agony wafted over him still gave him joy. There was no horror in his recollections for it was what he had to do to rescue his beloved from the clutches of a sadistic, brutal beast.

In the time they had been back at the castle, Vincent had not mentioned Germany and it worried him when Kylo brought it up. He wanted him to forget yet he had to make certain his angel was truly alright with being with him in Italy.

"You have no desire to return?" Vincent asked cautiously.

When Kylo laughed and shook his head, Vincent's worries faded into Venice's mist where they fell onto the cobblestone roads and were crushed under the weight of some drunken wanderer's feet.

"No, my lord!" Kylo's fingers curled around the tablecloth. "Not now, not ever."

"Not ever," Vincent whispered.

"I am with you. Here. Forever, Vincent." The desire to touch the lord's hand continued. It grew and gnawed at Kylo's heart.

"Forever, my love? I fear this word will be the death of me." Vincent knew forever would never be part of Kylo's life. Not unless he killed his beloved, drained him of his blood and turned him into a vampire like himself.