Kylo looked up at the grand paintings decorating the hall of the castle. He recalled how in awe he was the first time he saw them. That awe remained. Under the pale flickering of candlelight, the portraits appeared to be watching him, too.

"My father," Vincent uttered as he gestured to the portrait of a dark-haired man in a plum jacket and high-necked shirt. Stepping behind Kylo, the lord lifted a hand to rest lightly upon his angel's shoulder.

A shiver as pleasant as the kiss of spring came over Kylo. Vincent's hand ebbed heat and Kylo knew why. He also knew the faint blush on the lord's cheeks indicated the blood-wine in him was keeping him warm. Looking over his shoulder to Vincent, Kylo remarked, "You have his eyes, the same silvery stare."

Vincent's father's gaze speared into Kylo. The silver paint flickered hauntingly in the light.

Vincent chuckled, "That is because he was a vampire like me, my angel."

"A vampire, my lord?" Kylo's brows knit together. "How is that possible?" Lowering his tone, Kylo remarked shyly, "I did not know that vampires could make children."

Vincent ran his hand along Kylo's shoulder, his fingers pausing to squeeze lightly. "He was turned many years after my birth. My mother..." Vincent gestured to a petite woman with the largest blue eyes Kylo had ever witnessed. "She loved him so much that she stayed with him even though he had become unholy."

Kylo frowned because he had heard Vincent call his own self unholy before. It was a word he did not want to hear again. Silently, he reached for Vincent's hand and ran his fingers over the pale knuckles.

Vincent's lids hooded at the touch, but he collected himself and went on before he got lost in Kylo's caress. "I was away at boarding school. I saw my parents twice a year from the age of four until I was eighteen; on my birthday and summer vacation. When I was thirteen, my mother told me my father had an ailment, an allergy to the sun and that was why he slept during the day and was only available during twilight." A small smile feathered upon the lord's lips. "He was a good man. Polite. Soft-spoken. Wealthy enough to make Midas jealous. But there was a darkness that followed him. A hunger that he could not quench. I recall one night, not long after I had finished my studies and had returned home for good. I was awake. It must have been about midnight. I heard a noise and rushed downstairs to the sitting room. Before my mother could stop me, I had burst into the room where I saw my father holding a young woman in his arms, a lady of ill-repute who he must have brought home with promises of great wealth. His face was buried in her neck, I saw his elongated fangs dig into her flesh. I remember her blood, as red as roses, trickling around his lips. I do not recall if I made a sound. My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me away whispering over and over that it was a dream I was seeing, that I was sleep-walking. She led me to my room and forced two glasses of strong brandy down my throat. In the semi-darkness of my room, I watched shadows form. Pale hands reached for me. Their hair was reeds in a swamp. I could not tell if they were male or female or even if they were real. I fell asleep not knowing what reality was anymore."

Looking up at the lord, Kylo shuddered. He'd be allowed access into the depths of Vincent's soul, into a place where he kept his family's secrets. "Your father lived as a vampire...for how long...for..." Kylo stopped mid-sentence. Questions swarmed around him like hundreds of tiny moths.

A dry chuckle came from Vincent. "Lived is not the word I would use, angel. Though he roamed these Earthly planes, my father was not alive. He continued existing that way for nearly twenty more years - until the night I was turned."

Wide-eyed, Kylo asked confused, "I don't understand."

Reaching up to caress Kylo's cheek, Vincent gave him a sad smile. "Do you remember what I once told you? That I am unholy and that I..." His teeth grazed along his lower lip. Vincent could not muster the strength to finish.

"That you killed," Kylo finished for him. "Yes, I remember. But I also know you had to do what you had to do."

A pain thudded in Vincent's chest. "Ah, your family was wicked. I did what I had to do in order to save you." He gently shook his head. "I have no regrets for that." Vincent's fingers trailed down Kylo's jaw. "I killed my father, angel. I took a sword given to him by his grandfather and dug it into his chest until it came out of his back." In his gray eyes, crimson tears glistened.

"Why?" Kylo whispered so softly Vincent just barely heard him.

"Because my angel, my kind, loving father, the man who never spoke an ill word to anyone, was the man who turned me into a vampire against my will." Vincent paused his hand over Kylo's neck, the tips of his fingers finding Kylo's pulse. Vincent sighed as he felt the blissful beat. "I begged him not to. I begged for my soul but the hunger and darkness..." A velvety stroke moved down to Kylo's shoulder. "The dark desire was too strong."

Kylo felt as though his heart would break. It was not some stranger who had turned Vincent, it was his own loving father. "My lord..." he uttered and cupped Vincent's face. "I have no words to express the sorrow I feel."

Pulling Kylo into an embrace, Vincent shuddered. "There are no words. Nothing in any language I have ever known that can properly express betrayal." The desperate desire to sink into Kylo wrapped itself around Lord Vincent like a cloak. He ached to be held tightly until all his broken pieces came together and he was once again whole. The way he had been when he was a mortal.

"I wish I could fix this."

Vincent wanted to weep for his past and for his future. How could he go on without Kylo when his angel was a mortal man with an expiration date? "Some things cannot be fixed. Some hells we must keep going through."

"For how long?"

Vincent touched his lips to Kylo's soft hair, the scent of nocturnal flowers filled his scenes. "Until we no longer can."