A/N: Thanks for being patient, and thank you for all of your reviews and follows! This chapter earns it's M rating, just so you're aware.

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Chapter 8

Emma waited about an hour after sunset to call Graham. She felt childishly nervous as she listened to the phone ring, like she was a middle school girl calling her crush. There was honestly no need for her to be nervous since this call would be more business than pleasure, but still; this would be her first time talking to her handsome vampire friend since he'd left her last night. Her feelings for him were all over the place at this point, but she knew she wanted to pursue whatever it was between them.

"Emma," Graham's voice came finally.

"Hi," she said, somewhat timidly. "Uh, how are you?"

Graham chuckled lowly, which relaxed her a bit. "Very well, and you?"

"Well, I've had better days," she told him. "I'm actually calling because I need your help."

"An all too familiar phrase," he quipped. "I'll be right over."

Emma opened her mouth to tell him there was no need to rush, but she heard the tell tale beeps that meant he'd already hung up.

"Is Graham gonna help you with Operation Exorcist?" came Henry's voice from behind her.

She turned to find him innocently chomping down on an apple. "Operation Exorcist?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You and Aunt Ruby weren't exactly quiet when you came back to the diner, Mom," he told her, shrugging. "Just because I had my comic book open, doesn't mean I was actually reading it."

"Hmm, noted," Emma said, shaking her head in amusement. "And yeah, hopefully Graham will be able to help me with Belle. I figure, who better to help with a supernatural problem than a supernatural person?"

Henry nodded. "Makes sense." The doorbell rang and his eyes lit up. "I'll get it!"

Emma panicked for a moment, running her hands over her hair to make sure it was behaving. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the mantle place though and stopped, rolling her eyes at how ridiculous she was being. She followed after Henry who was letting Graham through the front door.

Her mouth went a little dry at the night of him, though he hardly looked different from the day before. Maybe it was the simmering desire in his eyes that she could see clear across the room.

"Hi," she said quietly.

"Good evening," he responded, and they stood there for a moment just looking at each other before Henry reminded them that he was still there.

"Sooo," he said, looking between them with a grin on his face, "I'm just gonna head to my room. Homework and stuff."

"Okay," Emma replied, though she knew he had no homework since he hadn't gone to school that day.

Once they both heard his bedroom door close, they surged towards each other, mouths colliding and hands grasping. His cool lips felt wonderful against her heated ones, and she lost herself in the kiss for a minute.

Finally, they pulled away, and she smiled at him. "Hi again."

His echoing smile was a little fangy. "I could get used to being greeted like that."

Emma led him into the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling him down next to her.

"So, you mentioned needing my help," Graham said.

Emma nodded. "I think Belle French might be possessed."

Graham looked non-plussed. "Well, her husband was a demon, so it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility."

Emma quickly explained to him what had happened that day, how Belle was acting completely unlike herself, and what she'd seen outside of the diner earlier that night.

"Sounds like possession to me," Graham agreed when she'd finished. "Normally though, the demon's spell would be broken with his death."

"So, what does that mean?" Emma asked. "Is it permanent?"

"I don't think so," he said, albeit hesitantly. "It's possible that Gold kept Belle in his thrall using a particular object, like a talisman, and until that talisman is destroyed, she'll remain under his spell."

"Okay, so then all we have to do is find the object," Emma said. She stood up. "So, let's go."

Graham looked up at her in surprise. "What, right now?"

"No time like the present," she told him.

Graham stood up as well, smiling fondly at her. "Emma Swan, woman of action," he said. "I assume you have some sort of plan?"

"Well…" She'd really just intended to make it up as she went along.

"She might not, but I do," came Henry's voice, and they both whipped around to look at him.

"Seriously, kid?" Emma groaned.

In true Swan form, he shrugged, smiling innocently. "Do you want to hear my plan or not?"

Emma narrowed her eyes at him speculatively before caving. "Alright, cough it up."

"Well, if you need to search Belle's house for the object, you're going to need her out of it, and for that, you'll need a distraction."

"That seems like a lot of work when I could just glamour her," Graham pointed out.

"No," Emma said instantly. "No glamouring. She's already being mind controlled or whatever, we don't need to add to that." She turned back to Henry. "Let me guess, you already have a distraction in mind?"

Henry nodded. "You're not going to like it, though."

"Wonderful."

.

.

"I don't like this," Emma muttered, scanning the deserted street in front of her.

"I told you," Henry said from the back seat of her squad car.

"Tricking my own officers, though, it feels so wrong," Emma continued, letting her head slump against the window.

"It's the only surefire way," her son reasoned. "You want to help Belle, don't you?"

"Of course," Emma sighed. If this worked, not only would she have her friend back, but she hopefully wouldn't be getting sued anymore.

The scanner in the patrol car burst to life suddenly, causing Emma to sit up straight again.

"We have a possible robbery in progress at 270 Main Street," the dispatcher reported. "I repeat, a 211 at 270 Main Street."

After a moment, Freddy's voice came over the scanner. "Copy that, Officer Fa and I are en route."

Emma almost whimpered, feeling like the worst sheriff in the world. Here she was staging a fake break in, while trying to commit a real one. Maybe she did deserve to lose her badge.

A couple of minutes later, Graham appeared at the passenger door to her car. She unlocked the door and he got in.

"Anything?" he asked.

"They're on their way to the pawn shop now," Emma told him. "What'd you do?"

"Broke in the front door, moved a few things around," Graham said. "I moved fast enough that any cameras would just record a dark blur."

"Good," she said, hands gripping the steering wheel. "Now we wait."

Sure enough, about 15 minutes later, they saw Belle's car pull out of the French's driveway, which they were parked 2 houses down from. She turned in the opposite direction from them, heading towards town, and she and Henry breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Alright, here we go," Emma said. She turned to Henry. "Are you going to okay here, kid?"

"Yes, Mom," he answered, with just a touch of exasperation. "Someone's got to be the lookout."

Emma frowned deeply but nodded and handed him her spare walkie talkie, tucking the other into her coat pocket. "Channel 5, okay?"

"Roger," Henry said, smiling. She never seen him so excited. "Operation Horucrux is a go."

Emma paused. "I thought it was Operation Exorcist?"

Henry shook his head. "Operation Horucrux seems more fitting now."

"Emma, we don't have much time," Graham warned her gently.

"Right," she said, trying to focus on the task at hand. "Let's go."

They left the car with one last reassuring nod from Henry and headed towards the French's house. They lived in the nicest part of town, the classic three-story antebellum putting Emma's single-level ranch style to shame. Part of her had always wondered where Mr. French had gotten the money for such a house, since the pawn shop hardly seemed like a gold mine. Her eyes narrowed as they crept up the driveway. Her rent was definitely higher than it should be, maybe Gold had been overcharging everyone in town. Now that she thought about it, who was her landlord now that he was dead? Was it Belle? If so, she was probably lucky not to have been evicted in addition to being sued.

At the front door, Emma took out a bobby pin and began working on the lock.

"Done this a lot, have you?" Graham asked. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

"You'd be surprised," Emma said lightly. She gritted her teeth as she fiddled with the tumblers. "Almost got it...ah ha!"

The lock clicked open and Emma turned the knob, pushing the door open. She entered the house first, Graham following after her and closing the door behind them. The sheer magnitude of what they had to do swept over her as she took in the large foyer and grand staircase. Looking for a needle in a haystack would probably be easier.

"Where do we even start?" Emma asked. "What should we be looking for?"

"It will be an object of some sentimental value, I believe," Graham told her. "Something Belle would see and interact with everyday, so it would be in a prominent part of their home."

"Okay, let's start in their bedroom," Emma suggested, and they quickly climbed the stairs to the second floor.

"How will you even know if we've found it?" Emma asked as they started searching the bedroom. It could be anything in here, couldn't it?

"Well," Graham said in such a way that made Emma stop inspecting Belle's jewelry box and turn to look at him. He grimaced and she gave him an expectant look. "I thought that maybe you would be able to tell. With your powers."

Emma blinked at him. "With 'my powers?'" she repeated. "What do you want me to do, 'Use the Force?' Who do I look like, Luke Skywalker?"

If he didn't think he was too dignified for it, she knew Graham would have rolled his eyes. "Emma," he said. "You have a raw power inside of you that has been untapped until now. Yesterday, it saved your life and your son's. I know if you try, you can do this."

Emma sighed. She'd been trying really hard not to think about her "powers", especially after yesterday, but Graham's words made sense. "Fine, I'll give it a shot."

She breathed deeply in and out and shut her eyes. She could feel Graham staring at her and blocked that out too, focusing instead on the buzzing of energy that she had felt inside of her for as long as she could remember. As a child, she had tuned out the buzzing until it was only a dull white noise. It had never been magic to her, only a nuisance, something that made her different from everyone around her when all she'd wanted to do was fit in. How did she access it now after so many years of forcing it down?

Emma focused her senses completely, and was surprised to find a tendril of magic easily. It seemed to branch away from her, and Emma mentally followed it, thinking it would lead her to Gold's talisman, but it brought her in a completely different direction. She saw Killian's prone form, laying on a bed in a dark room, glowing slightly as all vampires did in Emma's eyes. He appeared to be only slightly better than when she'd him the night before. Most of his burns were healed, but the lacerations from Gold's silver sword were still visible.

Suddenly, Killian's blue eyes popped open, as if he could sense her, and, startled, Emma severed the connection, opening her own eyes.

Graham was looking at her in concern. "Are you well?"

"Yeah, fine," she said shakily. She shook her head to clear away Killian's face from her mind. The last thing she needed right now was a distraction. The clock was ticking. "Let me try again."

She found her magic much quicker this time and focused it on the room. A feeling of coldness seemed to emanate from it, and she shivered involuntarily.

"If I understand it correctly, all magic leaves some sort of trace," Graham said quietly as not to break her concentration. "Can you feel it?"

"I think so," Emma said. It was a bit dull, but she could feel the magic in the air. Something burned brightly with magic though, just outside her periphery. She opened her eyes. "The talisman's not up here. But I think I know where it is."

Emma led the way out of the room and down the stairs to the first floor. The talisman was somewhere down here. They walked through the living room, but nothing stuck out to her there or in the dining room. Finally, her instincts took her to the kitchen, where she stopped, gazing around at the pristine granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"It's here," she announced confidently. The magic felt so strong in the room that the hair on her arms was standing up. "Let's spread out."

Graham started at one end and Emma at the other, the latter doing her best to hone in on the object. It kind of felt like she was playing hot and cold but her magic kept going in and out. She needed to focus. Taking a deep breath, she cast her gaze over the kitchen, feeling the clear pull of magic to the cabinet about the stove. She walked towards it and was just about to pull it open, when her walkie talkie crackled to life.

Henry's voice came over the radio, but so garbled that she had no idea what he'd said. Her and Graham exchanged uneasy glances before Emma brought the radio up to her mouth.

"Henry, repeat that, over."

His voice came again, just as distorted, and Emma shook her head in frustration. "There must be some kind of interference."

"Magic perhaps," Graham suggested. "Emma, we should get out of here. He was probably trying to warn us that Belle was back."

"But it's right here, I can feel it," Emma said stubbornly. They'd come this far. She wasn't leaving until the talisman was destroyed. She reached for the cabinet handle and pulled it open.

"Emma, I can hear her," Graham warned behind her. "She just got out of her car. I can still glamour her."

"No," Emma said firmly, jerking back to make sure he saw how serious she was. "I told you: no glamour."

Turning back to the cabinet, she felt her pulse quicken as her ears strained to pick up Belle's footsteps coming up the walkway or her keys in the door. The cupboard was full of regular china; plates, glasses, and tea kettles. And nestled right in the middle of them all and practically glowing was a chipped tea cup.

"Look!" Emma said, pointing to the tea cup. "Do you see that?"

"See what?" Graham asked, peering into the cabinet. His attention shifted between her and the foyer rapidly. "Emma, she's coming inside."

"This is it," Emma told him, eagerly. "The tea cup! It's glowing! That's the talisman, that's what's controlling Belle!"

She picked it up and almost immediately dropped it. A sensation like an egg being cracked over her head crept all over her body, from her fingers to her toes. This was magic, but not the light, buzzy kind that flowed through her. This was dark and seemed to seep everywhere like sludge, and she had to struggle to keep her grip on the tea cup. Vaguely, she could hear Graham hissing her name, his fangs out at her failure to respond.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?!"

The question, uttered with the utmost hatred and shock, finally broke through the fog that threatened to engulf her, and she looked up to find a livid Belle standing in the entrance to the kitchen.

"I, Belle, I can explain," Emma started, but Belle had already spied what Emma was holding in her hand.

"Don't touch that!" she exclaimed, starting towards Emma. Her eyes were transformed until they were black again as she lunged towards Emma. "How dare you!"

Graham intercepted her, wrapping his arms around the petite librarian's torso. Belle screeched and struggled, but was no match for his vampire strength.

"Don't hurt her," Emma urged him, even as the woman cursed at her.

"I should have known you would stoop so low, Emma Swan," she said, her voice shrill and almost unrecognizable. "You may have this whole town fooled, but once a criminal, always a criminal, right?"

"This isn't you, Belle," Emma told her, trying to ignore the tears forming in her eyes at her friend's harsh words. "Your husband has you under some kind of spell!"

"My husband loved me, but what would you know of love?" Belle spat at her, still struggling against Graham's grip. "You're nothing but a friendless orphan, and that's all you'll ever be."

A tear made it's way down Emma's cheek, but her mind was clear and determined. "You're wrong, Belle," she said calmly. "And this ends now."

Emma would never forget the scream Belle let out as she winded back and threw the chipped tea cup with all of her strength against the tiled floor. The cup shattered, and the impact knocked all three of them off of their feet. Emma's head was ringing, but when it cleared, the trace of dark magic permeating through the room was completely gone. Strong arms suddenly helped her up, and she looked up into Graham's concerned face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, as she got to her feet.

"I'm fine," Emma said. A groan came from across the kitchen, and she saw Belle on the floor pressing her hand to her forehead.

"Belle?" she asked hesitantly, moving closer, but still keeping her distance.

Her friend looked up at her, and her beautiful face crumpled in despair. Her eyes were their usual shade of brown, no red or black, and they were filled with tears.

"Oh, Emma, I'm so sorry," Belle choked out.

That was all it took for Emma to rush to her side, enfolding the other woman into her arms. Belle's whole body shook with sobs as Emma whispered words of comfort and forgiveness to her, almost crying in relief herself.

Her friend was back.

.

.

The following days were a bit of a blur for Emma. Eventually, Belle settled down enough, and Emma had the unfortunate task of explaining to her that her husband had been a demon. The dark haired beauty didn't take the news very well, but both Emma and Ruby were there to support her. Belle had retracted her law suite, for which Emma was very grateful. The media about had a conniption over the sudden 180 flip of the grieving widow, but no one reacted worse than Albert Spencer who stormed into the bullpen at the Sheriff's Station the moment he heard.

"What have you done?" he demanded the moment he saw Emma.

Emma smiled. "Hi, how are you?" she asked with false cheer. "Nice weather we're having today, isn't it?"

The man only glared at her. "Don't play games with me, young lady," he practically hissed. "You had no right to speak to my client, but Belle just told me she's dropping the suite. I know you spoke to her. Pressured her to change her mind somehow."

Emma said nothing, only kept her smile, it might have become more of a smirk, planted on her face.

Spencer's eyes narrowed further and he shook a finger in her face. "This isn't over."

He spun on his expensive Italian shoes and left. Emma smiled and waved. "Bye, now!"

She probably should have been worried about what he was going to do, but she was too relieved that it was all over to care. Granny's murderer could no longer hurt anyone, her friends and son were all safe as was the town that she'd sworn to protect. There was only one thing that was bugging her, and try as she might, she couldn't get her mind off of it.

A few days after she'd broken the spell on Belle, she found herself driving down the highway to Shreveport. Henry was having a sleepover at Nicholas and Ava's house, so she had the night to herself. Realistically, she knew that Killian might not even be recovered enough to be at the Dead Man's Chest, but something told her, she refused to believe it was their 'bond', that he would be there.

When she arrived, Emma was carded at the door by a vampire she didn't know. The hour was still early, so the crowd was on the campy side, but Emma ignored the tourists taking pictures and focused her attention on the vampire sitting on the stage. Killian, though pale as ever, looked much better than when she'd gotten a flash of him the other night. He was wearing the same pirate getup he'd been wearing the night they'd first met, and she only had a moment to appreciate the way the black leather hugged his body, before his eyes zeroed in on her.

They shared a inscrutable look across the bar before he was suddenly in front of her, sweeping her into his arms and rushing them into his office in a matter of seconds. Her back hit the door of his office with a thud, and she looked up to find him gazing down at her in awe.

"Swan."

"Hi," she said breathlessly, too stunned to protest his actions.

"You saved me," he whispered, inching closer.

"You saved me first," Emma reminded him, remembering the way he'd risen from the ground to come to their rescue. "Thank you."

Killian drew back a little at that, scratching behind his ear almost self consciously, she thought, like the praise had made him shy. He bounced back a second later, using the same finger to tap his lips, drawing her attention to them.

"Well, perhaps, gratitude is in order," he said, throwing her a lascivious look.

Emma grinned. "Yeah, that's what the thank you was for."

"Is that truly all you and your son's lives are worth?" he asked, his tone playful.

Emma shook her head, and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Please, you couldn't handle it."

"Perhaps, you're the one that couldn't handle it," Killian countered, arching an eyebrow at her.

Emma didn't know what came over her, but one second she was looking at his smirk and thinking she'd like to wipe it from his face, and the next she was grabbing the collar of his ridiculous pirate coat and hauling him to her. Their lips crashed together, mouths open, tongues battling for dominance. She felt his hand in her hair, and she let out a breathy sigh, pulling him closer, wanting to feel his cool skin against her own. How could someone who was dead make her feel so alive? Was it like this with Graham? She couldn't remember.

Suddenly, she felt like she'd been doused with ice. Graham.

Emma pulled away from Killian, though he followed her, their foreheads still touching. He wasn't breathing hard like she was, but his fangs were down, and he looked thunderstruck, his eyes still closed.

"That was—" he breathed.

"A one time thing," she interrupted, causing him to pull back and open his eyes. They were clouded with confusion, and his expression was almost hurt. She needed to get out of there right away. "I have to go. Don't follow me."

"As you wish," he said, and she avoided his gaze as she slipped out of the door and back into the hallway.

She berated herself the whole drive back to Bon Temps. What had she been thinking, going to The Dead Man's Chest like that? If she'd wanted to make sure Killian was okay, she could have just called the bar. Over the phone he couldn't smolder at her with his too blue eyes and she didn't have to see his stupid kissable pink lips.

It was the blood bond most likely, she reasoned. The bond had drawn her to the bar, to him. Graham had said Killian would be able to feel her emotions, so no doubt, he knew exactly what she was feeling right now as she fled from Shreveport. The thought made her bang her hand on the steering wheel in frustration.

When Emma got to Main Street in Bon Temps, she made a quick decision. Instead of taking the turn to her house, she followed the road to the outskirts of town and found herself pulling into Graham's driveway. She'd never been inside his house before, but she had dropped him off a couple of times, so she'd known where he lived.

Shutting the engine off, she sat there for a moment. Despite the fact that he'd probably heard her pull up, Graham didn't meet her outside. He was waiting on her, of course, letting her decide what she wanted to do, and after a minute, she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the bug. The front door opened just as she arrived at it, and Graham greeted her with a smile.

"Emma, I didn't know you were—"

"Kiss me," Emma interrupted him, stepping into his body and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Graham's brow furrowed in confusion. He inhaled suddenly, and his body went rigid, his expression clouding over with anger.

"You've been with Killian," he stated, his fangs dropping down. "I can smell him all over you."

Damn vampire senses, Emma cursed mentally. She sighed and let her arms fall back to her sides. "I went to see him, to make sure he was okay," Emma admitted. "We kissed, but it didn't mean anything."

"And now you want me to, what?" Graham scoffed. "Make you forget him?"

"No!" Emma protested, before immediately backtracking. "Yes? Maybe. I don't know! All I know is I can't myself around him. Are my feelings real or are they just a side effect of the bond?" She took a chance and took his hands in hers. "But I can and I do trust my feelings for you, Graham. You're the one I want to be with."

"Truly?" he asked, and she couldn't blame him for being hesitant.

"Yes," she stressed. "Now, kiss me."

He drew her to him, wrapping both hands around her waist, and their lips met, a bit roughly at first, but gradually their kiss transformed into something more tender, but no less passionate. Graham pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them, never breaking their embrace as he pressed her back into the door. It reminded her too much of her moment with Killian though and she pulled back from him.

"Bedroom," she gasped out.

He suckled his way down her neck, lingering at her pulse point before picking her up and zipping them into his bedroom. Once she was back on her feet, his presence left her for a moment, and pricks of light appeared around the light tight room as several candles were lit. Emma took a moment to strip off her leather jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair, and toeing off her boots. Graham came back to her after a moment, his face awash in light and dark thanks to the glow of the candles. Cupping her face with both hands, he searched her eyes.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said after a moment, and Emma had a feeling he wasn't just talking about sex.

"I'm not easily broken," Emma assured him, pulling him back to her and pressing her lips to his once again.

Her hands moved to unbutton his vest and pushed it off his shoulders. Eagerly, she pulled his button down out of his pants and started unbuttoning that as well. Her mouth sucked on his bottom lip, and he groaned when she raked her nails down his bare chest. He moved quicker now, making short work of Emma's shirt and pants before tossing her with ease onto the bed. He stared down at her with pure want in his eyes, as well as a perfectly sized bulge in his pants.

"You're so beautiful," he told her, and she felt the trail his gaze left over every inch of her body. He looked like he wanted to devour her every piece of her, and there was nothing Emma wanted more.

She crooked a finger at him. "Get up here," she ordered. "And take off your pants."

Graham gave her a fangy smile before complying. He crawled up the bed, stopping to kiss his way up her legs. She squirmed, close to pushing his face right where she wanted it, between her thighs, but let him do as he wished. He paused where she was aching and wet with arousal and breathed deeply. Giving her a sinful grin, he placed a kiss on her over her underwear before moving on.

Up he went across her body, kissing and caressing her lace clad breasts, and she reveled in the attention, needing more. Her bra came off with a flick of her fingers, and she shivered with pleasure as his mouth and tongue encircled one of her nipples. She could feel him hard against her and moved her thigh to rub against him. He growled, lips descending on hers once again.

Emma's legs opened to cradle his body with hers, and Graham took the opportunity to snake his hand downwards, fingers sliding underneath her panties. She gasped as he easily slid a finger inside of her, and he laughed against her lips.

"I've wanted to do this for some time, Emma," he said, inserting a second finger and moving them in and out at a languid pace.

"Me too," she breathed, pushing off Graham's boxers with her foot until he was gloriously bare. "Please, Graham."

"What do you need?" he asked her, rubbing his thumb against her sensitive clit. "Tell me what you need."

"You," she gasped, writhing against his fingers. "I only need you, please."

Graham removed his fingers from inside her, ignoring her whine of protest, and hooked them around her underwear, dragging them down her legs and throwing them somewhere off to the side. Settling his weight between her legs, he grasped himself in hand and lined his cock up to her entrance. He sought her gaze one last time, and she gave him a fervent nod. He pushed forward, and she took him inside her inch by inch, one hand digging into his bicep, the other grasping the sheets.

Finally, he was sheathed all the way inside her, and the sensation of his cold hardness inside of her heated center was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. He stopped to let her adjust, but she wasn't some blushing virgin, and instead, urged him on, wrapping her arms around his back.

Taking her hint, he began thrusting in and out, and the drag of him along her walls had her digging her fingers into his skin. Their pace became faster and faster, and Graham's hands and lips were everywhere all at once, caressing and pulling and suckling. The combined sensations threatened to overwhelm her, and sooner than Emma had thought possible, he was coaxing her through her first orgasm, her whole body spasming.

He didn't let up though, continuing to pound into her, the sound of their skin slapping against each other quickening as his thrusts did.

"You are mine, Emma," he grunted out, curling her leg around his hips, and the new angle driving him even deeper inside of her.

"Yes," she gasped, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he hit that special spot that made her see stars.

"Say it," he urged her, wrapping his arms around her lower back and lifting her off the bed, so he was fucking her in the air.

"I'm yours!" Emma cried out, so close to reaching her peak again that she would have said anything to make sure he didn't stop. "Only yours. Please."

He gave her a bruising kiss before burying his face in her neck, and Emma could feel the tiny pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin there.

"Emma, I—," he started, still thrusting up into her.

"Do it," she interrupted hastily, before she lost her nerve. "Bite me." He pulled back from her, a longing, though hesitant, look on his face. Keeping one arm anchored around his neck, she cupped the side of his face with the other. "I trust you, Graham."

Her back hit his firm mattress again, as he lowered them back onto the bed without losing his rhythm. She could feel her orgasm building within her, and it hit her all at once as he sunk his fangs deep into her neck. It was painful for only a moment as pleasure swept through her, radiating out from her center. Even the pull of him sucking her blood was somehow erotic, and the abounding sensations made her cry out in ecstasy.

She felt Graham come undone as well, taking her blood seeming to be the trigger for his own climax. His hips continued to thrust for several moments before stopped and pulled out, though he continued to feed voraciously from her neck.

"Graham?" she asked hesitantly, though she was starting to feel a little lightheaded as she came down from her high; whether from the extreme pleasure or the blood loss, she wasn't sure.

He pulled back to look at her, fangs still down, blood, her blood, smeared all over his mouth. His face was flushed as she'd never seen it, and his eyes had taken on a dreamy expression.

"Your blood, Emma," he said, shaking his head as though in a daze. "It's—"

"Intoxicating, I've heard," she said dryly, smoothing down her wild hair. Honestly, these vampires were like a broken record.

"Well, yes," Graham admitted, eyes shifting to her neck, which she was sure was a mess. Finally, they met hers again, serious now. "In all my years, I've never tasted anything like your blood before."

A trickle of fear went through her. "What does that mean?"

He stared down at her for a moment before shaking his head. "Nothing," he told her. "It means, nothing."

And Emma didn't need her superpower to know he was lying to her.

Using his tongue, he licked up the last remains of blood around her neck before scooping her body up effortlessly and sliding her underneath the covers. He left her side for just a moment, and when he came back, his face was clean and his fangs were retracted. Sliding under the sheets with her, Graham wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to his side. Emma rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on top of his chest. The absence of a heart beat was a little unnerving, but she'd just had sex with a vampire who had sucked her blood; at this point, his dead heart should have been the least startling factor.

"I will protect you, Emma," Graham said suddenly, causing her to pick up her head to look at him. "You are mine, now. No other vampire can touch you or feed off of you without my consent."

"Without your consent?" she asked incredulously, sitting up all the way now. "And what about my consent?"

"Most non-mainstreaming vampires could care less about getting consent from the human they've chosen as their meal," Graham pointed out, sitting up as well. "By claiming you, I can protect you in an official capacity that is recognized by all vampires."

The more he spoke, the more uneasy Emma became. "I'm my own person, Graham," she told him firmly. "If this is about becoming your property or whatever, I'm out."

She moved to get off the bed, but he pulled her back to him gently. "Emma," he chided, smiling at her in that fond way he did. "That's not what it's about. This world, this supernatural world you've become a part of, is a lot bigger than you realize. All I want to do is be with you, Emma, you and Henry, and protect the both of you. If you'll let me."

Emma searched his eyes for an ulterior motive but found none, and since her superpower didn't work on vampires, she needed to trust her instincts. Graham had been by her side, helping and encouraging her through everything the last few months. Besides Ruby, there was probably no one she trusted more. Was she really going to throw that away because of some old-fashioned vampire bullshit? No.

"Okay."

Graham nodded, clearly pleased, and resettled them back down on the bed. She nestled her face comfortably into the crook of his neck.

"We really need to work on your pillow talk, though."

.

.

An overwhelming amount of townsfolk showed up for Rupert Gold's funeral when it was held two days later. Whether it was to discern for themselves if Belle and Emma had truly made up or they wanted to see what name was going to be on the tombstone, Emma wasn't sure. She was there for only one reason, though, and that was to support Belle.

Though she understood that she had been in her husband's thrall, Belle insisted it hadn't always been like that. They had been in love when they married, Gold taking Belle's last name because he had said he'd wanted to start over after the loss of his first wife. But in the past couple of years, and shortly after the vampire's Great Revelation, Belle started noticing her husband's strange behavior, and when she'd wanted out of their marriage, that's when he had put her under his power.

It was a very simple ceremony and the only tears that were shed were Belle's. No one gave a eulogy or spoke any kind words about Gold, and the pastor only read a short psalm as the casket was lowered into the fresh grave site; thankfully as far away from Granny's as possible. Emma couldn't imagine a stranger funeral, but it was what Belle had wanted. Afterwards, many guests came and gave their condolences to Belle, their eyes shifting curiously to Emma who remained firmly by her side.

She was keeping an eye on Henry nearby talking animatedly with a couple of kids from school, when she spied a figure standing just in front of the grave. He was about her height, maybe a little taller, with scruffy brown hair, and her heart almost stopped beating in her chest.

"Excuse me," Emma said quietly to Belle, not taking her eyes off the man.

She walked through the rows of chairs up to where he stood, her heart now pounding loudly in her ears. He must have heard her approaching through the grass because he was hastily wiping tears away from his face. When he turned to her and she saw his face for the first time in almost 11 years, she couldn't help her gasp.

"Neal?"

TBC

A/N: Dun dun dunnnnn! I think you probably all saw that coming. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I just want to say, this is probably the first and last Gremma sex scene that will be in this fic. Anyway, thank you all for sticking with it!