Part 1: The Promise of Love and the Pain of Loss

The laboratory was silent but for the faint sound of a young William Sherlock Scott Holmes adjusting the focus of his microscope. He was sure that he was on the verge of a major discovery and his concentration was complete. If he proved what he had set out to prove, then his thesis would become a masterpiece indeed. All of his professors, who had looked down their noses at him and cast him aside as a "queer, improper young man", would see that he was the genius among them.

Liam moved to look at another blood sample, but was suddenly and unfortunately interrupted.

"It's rather late for you be here, isn't it, Holmes?" There was no mistaking that lilting Irish accent. Liam looked up to see James Moriarty staring back at him with his big, abyss-like eyes. The man was studying mathematics at the university and had met Liam a month previous. They weren't exactly friends. Liam was far too wary of him for that, but they did share a love of logic and intellectual games.

"I should think my research is too important to be subject to concepts such as lateness," Liam responded coolly and Moriarty laughed.

"If your work is indeed that important, why are you allowing me to distract you? Please do carry on." Slowly, Liam turned his gaze back to what was under his microscope, but it was rather difficult to think about anything but Moriarty, who was coming closer instead of leaving. It made him uncomfortable to say the least. Moriarty had no reason to stay around, Liam had made that very clear. "Don't mind me. I simply enjoy watching an intelligent man at work," Moriarty murmured, now standing behind Liam and leaning down as if to glance at his notes over his shoulder. His heart began to beat much faster as he realized that Moriarty was not going to go away and it dawned on him that he meant to do him harm.

Liam hadn't even have the time to stand up before Moriarty's teeth were imbedded in his neck. He cried out in shock and pain and pushed the other man back, whirling around to take the boxing stance that was so familiar to him.

"Look at you," Moriarty cackled. "It's quite endearing to see you standing there, thinking that you can defend yourself against me as you bleed freely." He took a step closer and Liam swung at him, only to have his wrists grabbed and held still as Moriarty forced him to the floor with superior strength. "You taste even better than you smell. If I didn't have other plans, I'd drink you dry," the Irishman told Liam before he sunk his teeth into him once again. Liam struggled wildly, but to no avail. Eventually, he grew too weak to struggle at all. When Moriarty finally released him, he barely had the strength to move a finger. "Shh, you'll be quite well again soon enough. Here." After pricking a finger with a bit of glass that must have been knocked on the floor, Moriarty tapped a few drops of blood into Liam's slightly open mouth. "I hope to see you again soon now that we are brothers. You know where to find me."

With that, Moriarty swept out of the room, leaving Liam to lie there on the floor, silent and still for quite some time. He passed out of consciousness, for how long, he did not know, but when he awoke, he felt terribly cold and he was sweating very heavily. His body trembled as he slowly got to his feet. He stumbled out of the building and into the night, encountering no one as he went. Just after he managed to make it into his small flat, he collapsed and seized, waves of fire and pain racking his body. Once more, he fell unconscious.

Several days later, Liam came to, feeling clear headed and healthy but for a powerful thirst. He thought of nothing else and hurried to make himself some tea, only find that it did nothing to quench his thirst. He longed for something thicker and saltier, something that lingered in his mouth like an aftertaste. Only when he saw himself in his mirror, covered in blood, did he realize what he was craving.

It was impossible and yet it was so. Hoping that he was simply fooling himself, Liam bared his teeth and watched in horror as his upper canines extended and sharpened. He was a vampire and James Moriarty had made him.

That night, without a second thought, Liam ran away from his life at the university and the man who had changed him.

It was hard at first, adjusting to his new life, but Liam managed. He settled at the edge of a small town in Hampshire in a little house where he would not be disturbed as he learned the parameters of his new biology.

No sickness could take him, nor any wound remain open for more than a moment. He could see, hear, and smell twice as well as he once could and his strength and agility were thrice over increased. His eyes were quite sensitive to sunlight and he could not go out on sunny days without developing a raging headache. He had acquired an allergy for garlic and experienced terribly painful cramps if he ate something containing it.

Then of course was the constant craving for blood. Liam found that regular food could not sustain him and he grew very weak after his first month as a vampire because he was not getting any energy out of anything he ate. For a time, he let himself starve, holding onto the conviction that he would rather waste away than do anyone harm. It took a great deal of focus to keep himself from giving in to the temptation that the townsfolk around him presented, but he kept at it relentlessly. Eventually, he learned that animal blood was enough to satisfy him. It was disgusting, but it was his best option and he managed to secure a deal with the local butcher (who was told that he needed the blood for "research purposes"), which kept him properly fed. After a year or so of drinking nothing but animal blood, it became easy for him to ignore the enticing scent of human blood.

Liam managed to create a certain level of comfort for himself in his new life once he had forced himself to emotionally let go of the past and concentrate on his future. He learned apiculture and established himself as a private detective. The locals loved his honey and his crime solving, but they generally avoided him unless they were seeking out one of those two things. They disliked his abrasive personality and unusual habits, for which he could not blame them. It was for the best, he was quite sure. The only thing he really objected to about the whole arrangement was the way many children would stare at him and whisper about him to each other, though he had never mistreated them and the only ones he had ever reprimanded were the ones who tried to get up to mischief around his house.

A few of the children Liam encountered could not be prevailed upon to stay away. They were either outcasts themselves or were simply unable to sense that there was anything dangerous about him. These children he came to view very favourably in a somewhat fatherly way and he allowed them to hang about in his garden. Often they would tell him all about what was happening around town with an honesty only they could provide. In return, he would give them small gifts, usually a jar of honey or trinket of some sort. It helped fill some of the emptiness he felt inside him, but never completely sated it.

For years, Liam carried on like this. The children grew older, but he remained unchanged, and it wasn't too great a leap of logic to come to the conclusion that he was immortal, just as legend professed. The townsfolk were good enough to assume that he was simply aging well and continued to come to him with their problems, which he continued to eagerly solve.

In the summer of 1890, a client came through his door who would change everything. Her name was Violet Hunter and she was a young orphaned governess who carried with her an air of quiet dignity and suffered from a very peculiar plight.

Miss Hunter had recently accepted a position at the Copper Beeches, a nearby estate, where she was to look after a six year old boy. There was nothing unusual in that itself, but she detailed to Liam the strange things that went on at the house. Her employer, Mr. Rucastle, restricted her diet and often told her to take long walks around the grounds. Mr. Rucastle's daughter, Alice, was about her age and a very shy, sickly creature. Though they got on very well, Mr. Rucastle heavily discouraged their friendship, and because of a conversation she had overheard, Miss Hunter did not believe it was due only to her dark skin or low class.

"'You should not be holding conversation with her anymore than you should hold conversation with a cow,' Mr. Rucastle said to me. I was quite taken aback and it occurred to me that my treatment had indeed been rather like that of a cow," Miss Hunter explained and Liam nodded in agreement as he looked back at her with a very grave expression.

"Tell me, Miss Hunter, have the Rucastles discussed any future dates which seem to be very important to them?" he asked, dreading what the answer might be.

"Yes. They often speak of their preparations for Miss Rucastle's birthday celebration next week." Liam's heart sunk at this news.

"It is very important then that you never return to the Copper Beeches," he told the governess solemnly.

"Why? What danger do you perceive?"

"Mr. Rucastle means to kill you ritualistically." A look of profound horror came across Miss Hunter's features, but to Liam, her reaction was much less extreme than he had expected.

"For what purpose?"

"That, I'm afraid you would find difficult to believe."

"One can only have extraordinary reasons for ritual murder," Miss Hunter pressed, intriguing him with her determination to know and her sound logic. For that reason, he decided to be forthcoming with her.

"Mr. Rucastle is a vampire and is planning to make his daughter into one as well. You are to be her first meal." At this, Miss Hunter's hand flew to her mouth and her already wide eyes grew wider.

"I see," was all she managed to say. Liam found it interesting that she had simply accepted his explanation. She was either very wise or very foolish. With what she said next, his opinion leaned towards the former. "You must understand, Mr. Holmes. I am not prone to superstition and I do not choose to believe in anything I cannot cognate to be true, but I trust your word. I have seen and experienced the strange behaviour for which I can find no other explanation and you have shown yourself to be the strikingly honest and intelligent man many have spoken of you to be. I know you would not tell me these things if you did not have sound reasons for thinking them."

"You're a very sensible young woman, Miss Hunter," Liam told her quietly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. He appreciated her blunt nature; it was quite refreshing.

"You're too kind, sir. But now we must talk of what I am to do about my situation. I would like to save Miss Rucastle if I can, even if it means returning to the Copper Beeches for a time." This brought Liam around to thinking that Miss Hunter was also a bit foolish, but the same sort of foolish he was when he engaged in the more dangerous of his cases. The only difference was that she was all the braver for it because she could actually suffer serious harm.

"Have you considered the possibility that Miss Rucastle wants to be a vampire?" Liam queried and Miss Hunter shook her head.

"I needn't. She has discreetly expressed to me on more than one occasion that she fears her father and would do anything to escape him. She even once said that she did not want to be like him. At the time, I confess that I didn't know what she meant by it, but now it's clear to me." Liam thought carefully about this for several minutes, remaining silent with his hands clasped together under his chin. Miss Hunter waited patiently all the while for his reply.

It seemed to him that Miss Hunter was quite capable. Given the right knowledge and tools, he was certain that she could successfully do as she desired all on her own. Unfortunately, there was no time to give her everything she would need. He felt an obligation to ensure her safety and see her through this ordeal, especially when it involved another vampire.

"I will assist you," he promised finally and Miss Hunter's amber eyes brightened in a way that he found perplexingly endearing.

Miss Hunter took Liam to the Copper Beeches the following morning, just after dawn, when Mr. Rucastle was least active and the boy was still asleep. It was fortunate for Liam that it was a cloudy day. It would be difficult to explain to Miss Hunter if he had to tie black cloth over his eyes.

The property was quiet, most of its occupants not yet awake. Liam gazed up at the tower where Miss Rucastle's chamber could be found. On his own, it would be simple enough for him to scale the building, but with Miss Hunter, other methods were necessary. Their plan was sneak into the tower and out of it again through the window with Miss Rucastle. Liam had armed Miss Hunter with a silver knife, being sure not to touch it himself as he gave it to her. If Mr. Rucastle accosted them, they would be prepared.

To the very great surprise of both, their plan was executed without a single problem. Miss Rucastle, while being extremely anxious during the entirety of her rescue, eagerly went with them once Liam explained that he had arranged for her safe passage to the continent, where she could stay with some of her friends in Italy. Once she had been sent on her way, Liam sent an anonymous tip to the local constabulary which suggested that there were human remains at the Copper Beeches. Two days later, Mr. Rucastle was arrested on charges of murder.

With Miss Hunter's case solved, Liam should have lost interest and parted ways with her, but he did not. She had been robbed of her living and thus he still felt responsible for her wellbeing. He was also fascinated by her and her quiet wit. Instead of abandoning her to whatever fate she might find for herself, he offered her a place as his assistant, since she had worked so well with him on her own case and shared his interest in science and music. She happily accepted this offer and seemed to be equally fascinated by him. They began to call on each other often and the outcast children got to know and love her more with each of her frequent visits to his house. She would spend much of her free time in his cellar laboratory with him, helping him with various experiments and engaging his black moods with dry quips that kept him grounded. She had no illusions about him, but stayed on with him anyway.

The townsfolk gossiped mercilessly about Mr. William Holmes and his assistant. Many were of the opinion that the pair were courting, which was a very shocking idea because of Miss Hunter's dark skin. Some people had some very nasty things to say about interracial relationships that Liam overheard on his way back from the butcher's one morning, though he gave them nothing more than his most withering glare. He didn't care what people thought so long as they didn't lay hands on Miss Hunter.

Liam came to understand soon after that that he cared for Violet Hunter very deeply. Her companionship satisfied the want that had once left him feeling empty. She was enchantingly clever, unfailingly kind, and as beautiful as the night sky. He could desire nothing more in a person. At first, he feared these feelings and did his best to suppress them. He was sure that giving in to them would do nothing but harm. He did not want to let her into his heart only for him to endure the pain of watching her age and die, leaving him alone in the world once more. It eventually dawned on him that it needn't be that way. He could make her a new offer. The only trouble was that he would have to first have to tell her what he was and then reveal to her his intentions toward her. Both of these things were subjects he did not know how to discuss and though he did not want to admit it, he was terrified of how Miss Hunter would receive him. Fortunately, as was her habit, she did half the job of broaching these topics for him.

"You're a vampire, aren't you?" she asked out of the blue one rainy afternoon as she began to prepare tea in his kitchen. "That's how you know so much about them." She didn't look at him as she spoke and he could hear her anxiety in the fast beat of her heart. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the uncomfortableness of this conversation.

"Yes," he answered simply. He could not lie to her. "You've observed it in my habits, I presume. I knew you would see it eventually."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She seemed now more hurt than frightened, which was not something he could ever have expected.

"How easy would you find it if you were my position?" He needed her to understand. He was not immune to emotional wounds as he was to physical ones.

"I see." Liam let go of the breath he didn't know he'd been holding at that. "But you're not like Mr. Rucastle." It was phrased as a statement, but it was clearly a question.

"No. I've never bitten anyone."

"That's why you go to the butcher so often and never come out with meat."

"Yes." They stared at each other for a few minutes in complete silence, each thinking carefully about what to do next. The decrease in Miss Hunter's heart rate put Liam at ease and left him feeling free to further explain himself. "I didn't choose to be what I am. I was made."

"I'm sorry." Miss Hunter's manner was sympathetic now and Liam was unsure how to respond. She brought the tea tray over to the table and sat down beside him. "I'm not afraid. I trust you."

"Miss Hunter-"

"Violet. Please call me Violet." His blue eyes widened at these words and swallowed hard. Was it still foolish of him to hope that she regarded him in the same way that he regarded her?

"Violet, I...wish to make you an offer. Whether or not you take it is entirely your choice." A look of comprehension came across Violet's face and he knew he didn't have to speak further.

"Why?"

"Because...I want...I want to be with you always."

"May I have some time to think on it?" Violet's voice was soft and her eyes filled with affection as she gazed at him.

"Of course." This answer earned him the warmth of her hand atop his and the brightest smile he had yet seen her wear.

As of that day, they were engaged to be married and the town was all a frenzy with the scandal of it, but they carried on as if nothing about their world had changed except their now much closer relationship. The children were quite happy with the news and some of them took to calling Violet 'Mrs. Holmes' already, which she did not seem to mind. Liam was more content with life than he could ever remember being.

In the spring of 1895, Violet decided that she wanted to be with Liam forever. She was willing to go through the pain and suffer the few drawbacks if it meant that she and her fiancé could always be there to keep each other company.

Liam planned the occasion carefully, arranging things so that the transition would cause her as little distress as possible. He cut his own wrist and let some of his blood collect in a glass. He refused to bite her. The only purpose it would serve would be to weaken and leave a mark like a brand, neither of which were things he wanted for Violet.

She downed the blood he gave her without complaint and rapidly fell ill, as Liam had forewarned her. Effortlessly, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to his bed, where he settled her and spent the next week tirelessly tending to her. For much of the time, he held her hand tightly and wiped the sweat from her feverish brow with a cool cloth. It tortured him to see her suffer and his only comfort was that she had agreed to it knowing that it would be like this. In her moments of calm, she would murmur to him that he shouldn't worry so and that she'd be alright, this wasn't as terrible as it seemed. Of course she would try to comfort him when it was she who was unwell. He knew she was improving when she joked about this and how he fretted so much that he needed bolstering more than she did.

Many days sooner than Liam had anticipated, Violet's sickness passed and she rose from the bed, looking cheerful and quite herself.

"Hello, Liam," she greeted him upon his return from his errands. He was delighted to see her well again and he grinned broadly at her, quickly coming to her and taking her hands into his own.

"The transformation has finished, then?"

"Yes. I feel better than ever now."

"I shall write down my observations of the experience soon. They could be quite useful in understanding our biology, wouldn't you say?" Liam's eyes were bright with joy and excitement.

"Indeed. I look forward to it," Violet replied with a giggle. Unable to resist the urge, Liam placed one hand at her waist and began to waltz with her around the room, humming the upbeat tune that was a variation on a melody he had composed to sooth her during the more restless moments of her illness. Once her giggles had subsided, she added an accompaniment of her own devising. It was an implied 'I love you' between them that need never be spoken.

When they stopped their dancing, Liam slowly built up the courage to bend down and press his lips to hers. He didn't care that everything about this was improper. The rules of society were fluid and they were immortal. All that mattered to him in that moment was the invigorating feeling of his fiancée returning his kiss.

Life resumed just as it had before with the only change this time being that Violet needed blood just as Liam did. They continued to make plans for their wedding and the children who had been warned away during Violet's transformation returned. The couple discussed adopting the orphans and took a few simple but well paying cases to support themselves.

Everything was going along wonderfully until townspeople began to turn up dead, drained of their blood with bite marks on their necks. The fog of fear in the town grew thicker with each death and the couple scrambled to discover the vampire who had done it. It wasn't until the bodies started pointing towards them that Liam realized that this vampire knew about them and was perfectly willing to frame them. Upon recognizing the bite marks on the latest victim as identical to the scars on his own neck, Liam became aware of exactly who they were dealing with. He rushed off to find James Moriarty and stop him before it was too late. His search came to a dead end with a letter promising him that he would always be alone until he became the companion to Moriarty as he had been intended.

Liam returned home to discover his house consumed by fire and surrounded by angry, torch bearing people. He could hear Violet's screams of agony coming from inside the inferno. She had been trapped and was dying and there was nothing he could do. It was then that he understood what true heartbreak felt like and it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced. Silent tears spilled down his angular face and burned in his eyes as he struggled to keep himself from crying out and exposing his presence to the mob that was shouting terrible slurs in response to its shrieking victim. He was not strong enough to fight all of them, but he could not bear to just stand their and listen to the cacophony of the murder of the woman he loved. A sudden calm washed over him as he decided to run into the house and burn with her if he could not save her.

"Hold on, Violet. I'm coming," he said softly under his breath. He prepared to jump down from the rooftop on which he was perched, but he was knocked out cold by a blunt instrument before he could even take a step forward.

Liam awoke in the morning and it took him a moment to remember what he was doing on the rooftop. He gazed wearily at the charred remains of his home and felt an emptiness inside himself that was much, much worse than the one that had plagued him before he had known Violet. It was grief, he realized, and it consumed him like an ugly rot consumes a plant. It drove him to go to the ruins of his world and stand among its blackened walls.

He found Violet in the cellar laboratory at the foot of the stairs. Her body was a charcoal shell that captured the last moments of her agony. He knelt down beside her and reached out to hold her hand one last time. She crumbled to dust at his touch and the primal roar of loss and rage that had been building up inside him finally ripped free. He picked himself up with ferocity and took nothing with him when he left but the mangled gold of Violet's engagement ring and the photos which had been saved from the blaze by their frames.

Deep in the nearby wood, where he and his almost-wife had shared many hours of adventure, Liam made a grave bearing the names William and Violet Holmes. There he buried the ring in the dark earth.

"I will never forgive those who did this to you. I will never forget why it happened. This I swear." Making a slash down his wrist, he let his blood spill across the grave until the wound healed itself.