For a week, Lilith wavers between conscious and comatose, and it would be funny at any other time if matters weren't so serious. Eve finds no humor in it, but Adam is amused at how his second wife will be chattering away one moment, and slumping over the next, dead to the world for an hour or more. She recovers easily each time, making it a point to document it all. "It's primarily about the shift in my metabolism," Lilith mutters, "as long as I'm not driving, I should be fine. I hope."

She doesn't drive. Adam watches over her while Eve reads up on what little they have on dhampirs. It's not much.

"Oh! After all this time, I shall have to learn to cook," comes the grumble. "Or at the very least prepare steak tartare!"

"You're up to the challenge," Adam assures her. "If a zombie can do it, you can do it far better."

She shoots him a slightly irritated look, but her mouth quirks up at the corners. "Cook-ing, Adam—I haven't stirred a pot since before the Romans invaded my woods!"

"Then you'll certainly have no preconceived notions," he tells her cheekily. "I hear they enhance flavors now with something called salt."

Eve calls him vile names under her breath, but scrolls through her kindle, looking up recipes with the dedication of a first year student at Le Cordon Bleu. Adam finds handwritten notes about basashi and gored-gored later, among his score sheets. He tucks them away for later and watches Lilith wake for the fifty-second time, stretching like a plump and contented cat.

Her hazel eyes have a hint of garnet to them now, a fractional gleam that Adam feels adds to her glamour. Her complexion—normally brown from the Moroccan sun—has paled a little.

"How long this time?"

"Ten minutes, maybe less," he tells her, coming to stretch out alongside her on the sofa. "I didn't even get to the first button on your blouse."

"You wouldn't—" Lilith accuses, but she's grinning.

"Pffft! You know perfectly well I would," Adam points out. "I love a challenge."

"You love doing evil things and being caught," Lilith tells him indulgently. "All the better if you get caught."

This is so blatantly true that Adam doesn't even argue the point. Instead, he moves closer and smiles. "Open your mouth."

Lilith does, and he slips a finger in, running the pad of it over her canines. "Sharper."

"Yeah?" she rises to check her reflection in a mirror, grimacing at herself in a way that makes Adam grin. Eve, who enters just then, chuckles.

"Mirror mirror?" she murmurs, coming closer to look over Eve's shoulder. "Oh my, definitely a bit . . . feral."

"All the better to eat you with," Lilith murmurs salaciously, and turns to plant a kiss on Eve's cheek.

"Ah!" Eve replies, "Somehow that's not quite a threat, darling."

"Nope," Lilith agrees, "but it's interesting." Thoughtfully she runs a tongue over her teeth.

-oo00oo-

So much happens in the next few years. As Adam watches, Lilith deals with meat on the under and un-cooked side, tests herself in daylight and records the changes faithfully, like the dedicated scientist she is. He's glad she keeps her curves, but there is something sweetly dangerous to her now; a glint in her eyes, a flash of tooth that marks her as Other.

Eve is published. Her first notebook of poetry goes to a little publisher in Norway and is released to superlative reviews that praise her lyrically haunting style and beautiful wordplay. His wife is amused at the fuss, but pleased too, and follows up with a slim, serious volume about the coming of age of a Druid. This too is met with critical acclaim from critics and historians, both of whom claim her as their darling. The media-savvy publicist they hire guards Eve's identity ferociously even as his wife finalizes her latest ambitious work: an intimate biography of Christopher Marlowe, replete with notes, anecdotes and insights that do nothing to clear up matters relating to Shakespearian authorship.

Adam is so proud of her.

His own music goes well too. The little studio in Spain continues to release his work under the assumed name he's taken, and when Adam visits in person, they agree to his stipulations without a second thought. As a result he arranges several sessions with local musicians that turn into wonderful jam sessions. There are new rhythms to play with; electric versions of old instruments and strange twisted covers of songs no-one's heard in decades. Adam knows he'll never make the top of the charts, but his underground fandom is a dedicated one, and they appreciate everything he releases.

There are hard moments and missteps too, but he's aware now of how fleeting they are against the long wall of time. He and Eve have cast their shadows along that endless mural, never leaving much of a trace before Lilith came into their lives.

She makes them stop and look at the details, Adam thinks. Lilith forces them to note the good and the bad, to run a finger on the colors of a lifetime. Sometimes even draw that finger back and taste the peaches and the peppers of humanity, speckled and spattered on that wall of time.

Lilith won't live forever, Adam knows. He, she, and Eve are aware of that, but the gift of a life extended five times longer than before is something they all accept. It's time enough to live and enjoy the living.

And Adam knows it's more than time enough to love as well.

end