A whispered plea tumbled from Victor's lips as he again found his body rising into mid-air, carried on the wisps of black smoke that rushed and snaked around the attic. He barely had time to incline his head to the side, allowing him a glimpse of Malcolm where he lay sprawled on his back, stunned and half conscious. Blood ebbed from the corner of his mouth, indicating that he had bitten down on his own tongue time after time whilst enduring the assault of the spirit.

Victor opened his mouth, poised to call out to his friend, but the barest groan escaped him instead. Then he was sailing across the old nursery once more, his arms swiping the air in a manner that the thing found somewhat comical if the rumbling laughter shaking the walls was anything to go by.

"Please… enough…" Malcolm rasped, managing to roll onto his stomach and push himself up on his elbows. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floorboards and then watched in alarm as the pool of crimson formed a dozen tiny spiders, which scuttled towards his fingertips with their visible fangs gnashing.

Malcolm found his voice with renewed vigour, letting out a yell of alarm as the arachnids attempted to swarm him.

Casting a fleeting look to where Victim lay crumpled on the ground, Malcolm struggled to climb to his feet, sliding his body up against the wall. The ground beneath him began to shake as if the entire building was in the clutches of a powerful earthquake.

Mina cocked her head as she regarded her father, her arms perfectly straight at her sides whilst she stared at him intently. A tiny, amused smile tugged at her ashen lips, and she appeared to take great delight in the gasp of horror that her father released when her feet left the floor. She levitated a foot above the wooden boards by the time her ascent was finished.

Slowly but surely Mina began to drift towards him. Every bureau, wardrobe, and dresser that lay abandoned in the attic beginning to tremble as she passed. Drawers were forcibly expelled, landing on the floor with a clatter, and it was only when she had flown towards Malcolm's terrified figure that she stopped in her tracks.

"Mina…" Malcolm began, his hands up towards his face defensively. He watched her through wide eyes, noting how her head turned at an unnatural angle as she stared towards the window of the attic. Her features contorting into rage, she disappeared from view, leaving Malcolm to gather his wits and rush over to check that Victor was unharmed.

Feeling a strong pulse beneath his friend's wrist, Malcolm got to his feet and stared out of the stained glass window that looked over the grounds.

"They've reached the centre of the maze."

Realisation struck him, and with renewed purpose he hurried from the attic, hoping to defend his only living child against the wrath of her dead sibling.

x-x-x

It was eerily silent as they drew closer to their final destination, but the air felt charged nonetheless. Electricity may have been sparking all around them as far as the tiny hairs on the nape of Vanessa's neck were concerned. They rose to stand erect against her pale skin, and a rash of goose-bumps broke out across every inch of her. She did not shudder though, since Ethan matched her pace so close by her side that their shoulders were touching. His presence offered her a sense of safety that no amount of weapons or spells or archaic supernatural artefacts could, and so she managed to keep her fear to a bearable minimum. She swallowed it down with a gulp of air, resolved not to let the vengeful spirit see even a shred of her unease.

They rounded the corner of the final hedgerow in perfect synchronicity, and immediately Ethan seemed somehow more alert; his gaze narrowed and focussed on the bonfire set in the centre of the maze, and his whole body grew more rigid. A growl broke free from between his lips and the sound was so base that it was difficult for Vanessa to tell if it had emerged from her fiancé or the wolf itself. Perhaps it was even both, united for once in a single purpose – to bring salvation to the woman they loved. After all, the beast had been the one to truly venture into Purgatory to retrieve Vanessa's soul, and he had done so with the utmost of restraint and control, (the likes of which nobody had ever thought possible).

Vanessa halted, her hand squeezing Ethan's tight as she brought him to a pause. Closing her eyes, she felt a ripple of anxiety bloom from the pit of her stomach, causing a shiver to roll over her body. It was a sensation that she had come to associate with only the very darkest of entities.

Mina was near, and their evening was about to be brought to a conclusion, one way or another.

It took a few deep breaths to regain her composure, but when Vanessa finally lifted her gaze to Ethan's, a vestige of fear remained behind her blue orbs; not of the vengeful spirit they must face, but of what she may have to do to vanquish it. There had always been an uncertainty over her powers that had haunted Vanessa - the fear of losing control, or becoming consumed by the darkness she knew was within her. And now, reborn, she was unsure of just how renewed and untarnished her soul was.

"Vanessa?" Ethan jarred her hand gently, noting the faraway look in her eyes. The spooked expression on her face was sadly too familiar to him, and he gathered up their joined hands to kiss hers before holding them firmly against his chest. "We're in this together. You're in control now, Van… the demon has gone. It's just you and me."

There was barely time for Vanessa to respond before the flames of the bonfire shot skyward, growing exponentially in height and width. Miraculously, the hedgerows did not ignite, despite the proximity of the fire, which seemed to be moving with purpose towards the couple.

Swallowing hard, Vanessa peered through the flame to the other side of the maze, tensing when she saw the cruel, keen gaze of her former friend returned to her.

"I suppose it is far too late to attempt to reason with you," Vanessa stated rather than inquired, her voice steady despite her nerves. Ethan seemed to draw himself up to his full height at her side, ready for confrontation whenever it should arise. There was little doubt in either of their minds that it would.

Mina tossed her head, the flames illuminating her pale features and casting even darker shadows in the hollows beneath her eyes.

"You know the only way this will end tonight, Vanessa," Mina said, confidence resonant in her voice, "one soul bound for the Heavens, one for Hell, and one destined to walk between the worlds for all eternity."

Vanessa had hardly blinked when Mina was before her, her smile both amused and evidently sinister as she cast a fleeting glance at Ethan. Vanessa didn't flinch, staring at her with a mask of composure that concealed the panic she felt rising up against her courage.

"And this one is my most prized sacrifice… this soul shall secure my freedom," Mina stated, tilting her head and answering Ethan's mumbled profanities with no more than a smirk.

Vanessa stepped forward, blocking the spectre's gaze as she snarled in warning, "I will not allow you to take him. Do not test me, sister."

Quickly slipping her hand from her pocket, Vanessa tossed a handful of an unknown substance into the creature's face, smiling to herself as its skin bubbled and rippled. Mina reared back with a shriek.

"What a clever little witch," Mina narrowed her blackened eyes, "but I'm afraid no manner of parlour tricks will save your beloved, Vanessa. His soul is mine… and I shall be free. Home, where I belong."

"Sorry to disappoint, ma'am," Ethan drawled, his mouth curling into a nasty smile as he spoke, "but you're gonna have to find yourself some other poor, hell-bound sap. I'm not much in the mood for ritual sacrifice today."

Mina laughed; a high pitched sound that resonated around the maze, despite the crackle of flames. She peered at Ethan in a curiously appraising manner that raised the wolf's hackles.

"Strange," Mina said finally, backing away from Vanessa and beginning to walk at an almost leisurely pace around her bonfire, "that you should assume that it is your soul destined for such torment."

"Well considering you kidnapped our priest… I'll be needing him back, by the way… I think it's pretty safe to assume," Ethan countered gruffly. Vanessa could detect the undertone of sorrow and regret colouring his voice; he truly believed that it would be he who would pay for the wolf's sins – although it was an affliction that he could never be held accountable for in her own eyes.

Mina furrowed her brow and she levelled a look at Ethan that bordered on being perplexed. For just a moment, the flames abated and died down to a tamer level.

"You truly believe so, don't you?" she queried, appearing almost baffled by the suggestion. "I assume that you are not a God fearing man, Mr. Chandler. If it were so, then you would never dare to speculate that he would forsake a soul as important as yours in such a way… 'wolf of God'."

Ethan managed to successfully rein in his expression of surprise, and he arched an eyebrow in the spectre's direction. "Darlin', wherever my sorry soul is headed, you ain't getting it."

Mina giggled, turning her head and staring off wistfully towards the centre of the maze laid out before them. The remains of the small summer house they had played in as children was now a dilapidated pile of decaying wood - a mournful relic from a childhood that had slowly been eaten away by adult indiscretions.

"Now, now, Mr. Chandler… I don't recall ever asking for your permission…" Mina chuckled, a girlish, haunting sound that made his blood run cold. Lifting her hand and gesturing to the darkened clearing, a dozen or so torches erupted into flames and illuminated the terrifying sight before them. Two men – one Ethan recognised as Father Fitzgerald – lay spread eagle on the ground, wooden posts hammered into the earth by each hand and foot, where a rope kept them bound and helpless. They tried desperately to shout, but the gags on their mouths stifled any cries. Mina appeared pleased with her progress, her gaze resting on the final vacant plot where she required her third and last sacrifice.

"I…" she began, frowning as she suddenly felt a tug at the body she inhabited, as if she were being somehow unsettled from the corpse. Shaking her head in confusion, she lifted her hand and gasped at the sight of decomposition that had begun. The tell-tale marks of rigor mortis had begun to settle in, and the natural decay that had been halted by her possession seemed to be beginning again.

Vanessa paused, sensing movement behind her, and she stilled, having already surreptitiously managed to begin the spell that would open the portal to the demimonde. Dragging her hand from her coat pocket, she dropped the handful of cemetery soil onto the ground where it fell against the black salt, cocooned in the handkerchief that bore Mina's initials.

"You can't beat me, Vanessa," Mina said with a scowl, her eyes clouding over with an inky blackness that set Ethan shuddering.

A peculiar kind of smile settled across Vanessa's lips, and in the blink of an eye she had raised her left hand then fluttered her fingers ever so slightly. The gesture seemed to have an effect on Mina, whose borrowed body stood rigid, arms pressed down to her side.

"I have learned a few things since we last met," revealed Vanessa, resisting the urge to spin around to meet the flurry of movement she heard over her shoulder.

"Vanessa…" Sir Malcolm breathed, rushing to her side. He seemed to be favouring his left leg and one arm was snaked around his own abdomen, almost hunching him over. She barely shot him a glance, her attention focussed upon Mina, where it was most needed. However, the few seconds that she allowed her eyes to rove his face were enough to take in his battered and bruised appearance, and she felt her heart wrench. It could be no easy torture to bear that occurred at the hands of one's own child.

"Malcolm…" Vanessa said gravely, passing him a silver dagger that he retrieved from her with a trembling hand. Nodding his head in understanding – and recalling the details of the plan they had laid out – Malcolm gritted his teeth as he swiped a thin incision down his palm. Squeezing his hand closed to encourage blood to flow from the wound, he held it over the circle Vanessa had begun on the ground. A few drops of blood fell onto the pristine white of the handkerchief, and almost immediately Mina let out a shriek of rage, feeling the hold on her grow stronger with the addition of her father's blood; her blood.

"And where is the good doctor?" Vanessa demanded, watching as Ethan hurriedly retrieved a worn, leather bound bible from his pocket, along with a silver medal that she recognised from a similar scene only a year or so before.

"Indisposed, I'm afraid," Malcolm stated, reaching into his pocket and wrapping a clean handkerchief around the wound on his palm.

Advancing towards the snarling girl, who was bound by Vanessa's magic, Ethan checked cautiously, "How long will this hold her?"

"Not long," Vanessa gravely replied. She dropped to her knees and accepted the lighter her fiancé passed her. She watched with satisfaction as she flicked the lid open to conjure a tall, flickering flame, then she dropped the lighter onto the ground to begin the final part of the ritual; lifting the veil to the demimonde.

"Malcolm, the hostages," Ethan reminded him, gesturing to the two men, who were still struggling against the apparent hopelessness of their situation. Despite the severity of the moment, Ethan found his mind wandering to what Mina had said; that it was not his soul that was in fact bound for Hell or even Purgatory. It was not something he could easily reconcile with his own conscience, knowing all the misdeeds and wrongdoings he could be held accountable for in his life. Especially given that one of the men before him was a Father – a man of God who could not possibly have angered the Lord in such a way that he would be forsaken.

Malcolm wasted no time in skirting around the fire and torches in order to reach the two men, both of whom were crying tears of what Ethan assumed to be relief.

"No!" Mina howled, sounding like a wounded animal caught in a trap, which Vanessa supposed was perhaps the very best description for what she actually was.

"Be still, Mina," Vanessa said quietly and in an almost soothing tone, "do not make this harder than it already will prove to be."

"You bitch… you whore…" Mina railed, her hands contracting into fists. She dug her nails so tightly into the flesh of her own palms that blood began to trickle down her wrists, although she paid no mind to it whatsoever. Her attention was far more focussed upon Vanessa, who she was regarding with a murderous kind of fury.

Mina watched enraged as Vanessa closed her eyes, her lips moving in an unintelligible tangle of words in both Latin and English. Raising her hands over the flames before her, her chanting grew louder, her back now upright as she knelt over the fire, her head thrown back.

The ground began to quake beneath them, and Mina's eyes – now white and almost opaque with decay – darted furtively around the clearing. The flames of the torches grew in height and began to flicker as Vanessa repeated her chant.

"I will claim him… You cannot stop me, Vanessa!" Mina shrieked, struggling against the invisible ties that bound her as she watched Malcolm and Ethan remove the hostages from the circle then usher them towards the exit of the maze.

Mina unleashed a blood curdling scream. Vanessa, her eyes flashing open towards the heavens, repeated her words louder and louder against the howl of the wind that encircled them.

"You may banish me now, Vanessa, but I will come for you… in the moment of your death it is my face you shall see. There shall be no peace for you, no eternity with your loved ones… You do not belong here, you are an imposter to this world!"

Satisfied that the two men had fled and were on their way to the house, Ethan stalked over towards Mina with Malcolm dropping into step at his side. Ethan swatted at the air as leaves and debris began to swirl violently around them, the earth beneath his boots rumbling as a consequence of Vanessa's connection to the other side.

"May I ask how is it you know the service of exorcism, Mr. Chandler?" Malcolm queried, taking the bible from Ethan with trembling hands that betrayed the fear coursing through his veins.

"That's a long story for another time, Sir Malcolm," Ethan drawled, clasping the St. Jude medal in his hand, the chain wound around his wrist to lock it within his grasp.

Mina's head whipped up and she affixed a ferocious look upon her face, which seemed to be growing more pallid in the flames as Vanessa's chanting wore on.

"No…" Mina hissed, and with a cry that resembled that of a banshee, she managed to tear free one arm from her magical bindings. That was all she required, however, and she flung her palm outwards with force. Malcolm and Ethan were sent hurtling across the maze in an instant. Both men sailed through the air before they connected with the tall hedgerows, scattering nesting birds into flight and breaking branches with their weight.

Vanessa's heart stuttered in alarm but she continued to shout her spell to the ether, her hands raised above her head and her fingers crooked like claws.

"Fuck you," spat Mina, managing finally to raise her other arm above her head with a look of immense triumph that only served to pique Vanessa's anger.

Her eyes narrowed, Vanessa took a step towards Mina, her hand outstretched and her features contorted into a determined rage. Her fingers curled as if grasping at the spectre's neck, and almost in an instant she had Mina held in a supernatural grip that the spirit struggled against.

The exertion of holding the entity captive quickly began to sap Vanessa's energy, and she stumbled forward, waning and wilting.

"Ethan!" she ground out, her jaw set as she watched her accomplices pick themselves up and run towards Mina. Grasping the religious medal in his hand, Ethan passed Malcolm the bible, which he opened with haste. The American retrieved a second lighter from his pocket, and then he passed the medal through the handheld flame.

"Whatever you do, don't stop reading!" Ethan instructed urgently, watching for a moment as Malcolm nodded his head and began to trace his fingertip over the words he would use to free his daughter's vengeful soul from its captive body.

"Father…" Mina cried, trying her best to attempt to tear Malcolm's watery gaze away from the pages of the tome that was the only hope of thwarting her plans.

"Keep reading," called back Ethan, taking a few steps towards Mina, who was almost free of Vanessa's mentally imposed bindings. Shooting a quick glance at his fiancé, Ethan could see her face draining of colour and her eyelids beginning to flicker as the consistent use of her magic sapped her energy. He willed her to carry on for just a while longer whilst he drew nearer to Mina with the chain of the red hot pendant held carefully between his thumb and forefinger.

"Papa, please!" screeched Mina, sobs bubbling up from her throat. "Papa…do not let them send me away!"

Malcolm ceased chanting only long enough to whisper a single sentence under his breath.

"I am so very sorry."

Then he was speaking again, in a surprisingly unbroken voice that radiated resolve and indicated great strength. Shocked but simultaneously pleased that Malcolm had managed to rally against the spirit, Ethan set his mouth in a grim line and struck out with the necklace at the closest patch of bare skin he could access.

An ear piercing and wholly inhuman scream spilled from Mina's lips as the metal seared the flesh of her cheek, which glowed red and bubbled as though she were a wax mannequin poised to melt.

Joining Malcolm in reciting the ancient Latin text that he'd committed to memory years before, Ethan stood his ground against the flailing, screaming corpse that Mina's spirit controlled.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Vanessa toss the cotton handkerchief into the flames that had begun to rise and crackle from the spot she had cast her binding spell. It caught light immediately, burning almost with urgency and disappearing into ash as if held up by an invisible hand. Slowly but surely, a bright light began to bloom from within the flames, and Ethan blinked against it as he watched how Mina's eyes darted to the fire.

With a few final words uttered under her breath, Vanessa stalked forwards and pressed her hand to Mina's chest, containing her revulsion for the cold, mottled skin beneath her fingertips.

"Goodbye, sister," Vanessa whispered, and then she was pushing hard on the corpse, who displayed nothing but outrage at the fate befalling her.

Mina's arms wind-milled but not a single blow seemed to connect with Vanessa, almost as though she were subject to divine protection. Vanessa took a step back, and called out to Ethan and the man she had learned to be her father in every true sense of the word.

"Now!"

With the spirit locked inside the body of the child, there was nowhere that Mina could hope to flee. She wailed and cried with renewed vigour, but Malcolm and Ethan persisted with the exorcism, knowing that all of their lives absolutely depended on it. Their voices rose to a fever pitch along with the roar of the fire and, with flames kissing the sky, Mina's host dropped to knees that were beginning to lock with rigor mortis.

Her mouth opened in a final, echoing scream, and then a grey mist was pouring forth from every crevice of her body; ears, nostrils, eyes and mouth, weaving up into the sky where it began to swirl like a mini tornado into a funnel shape.

The corpse, for that's what it was once more, fell. Folding like a card house subjected to a gust of wind, the body that Mina had inhabited simply crumpled to the ground. Then, it was over.

Vanessa felt herself sag, legs failing her at last as the magic she had weaved and her anxiety began to take a physical toll on her body. Malcolm was at her side before Ethan could manage to be, for once. He hoisted her up with an arm locked around her waist, supporting her weight as though she was nothing.

"Thank you," she managed to gasp out, her eyes still fixed on the shell of a child. It was several seconds before she realised that she was crying; for the little girl, for Mina, for Malcolm, for them all. She tasted salt water on her tongue, which poked out of the corner of her mouth, licking her cracked lips in an attempt to moisten them.

"I am quite alright," Vanessa assured Malcolm, managing to straighten herself up, although she did not dare remove his arm from about her. Another unceremonious descent to the floor was not what she had in mind for the remainder of the evening.

Her brow creased at the sound of footsteps approaching, and Vanessa turned her gaze to the overgrown entrance of the maze. As the figure approached with heavy, almost staggering footsteps, Ethan appeared at her side, gun drawn and pointed in the direction of the disturbance.

All three seemed to hold their breath, a collective sigh of relief drifting up into the night air as Victor emerged from the foliage, one hand pressed to the side of his head here an angry red mark was clearly visible.

Ethan withdrew the pistol in his hand, sliding it back into the holster at his hip and casting a careful eye on the corpse at their feet; he'd been duped by the dead too many times before, after all.

"I heard screaming… I…" Victor began, scanning the scene that presented itself to him with abject horror and yet quite obvious relief. "You are all unharmed. That is a relief, indeed. I have instructed the two gentlemen you freed to wait for us at the gates of the house. I suspect they are as eager to leave this God forsaken place as I."

Malcolm forced his gaze from malingering any longer on the body of the unfortunate girl and, as his thoughts drifted to the daughter he had lost, he found his arm tightening around Vanessa's waist. Mina was gone, her soul perhaps lost to him and heaven forever – but he would cherish every moment with the child he had been reunited with in this life.

"Let us go home."

x-x-x

It was the following Saturday before Ethan and Vanessa were finally able to wed. They spent the entire lead up to their nuptials almost holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak.

It was no great surprise to either of the couple when the Father elected to withdraw as officiate of the ceremony. The realisation as a man of the cloth that he was in fact not necessarily heading to God's kingdom in death was a heavy blow to be dealt, and thus he elected to take a brief sabbatical from his duties in the interest of some heavy soul searching. The replacement priest filled the post five days later, and so Vanessa and Ethan found themselves quite hurried to organise the finer details of their marriage with the man. He had been rather insistent upon getting to know the happy couple before agreeing to preside over proceedings, indicating he was not quite such an affable man as the outgoing Father had been.

Perhaps the most nervous of them all was Sir Malcolm, who was having great trouble sleeping, eating, or doing much else in favour of hovering over Vanessa. She found his concern both endearing and quite charming, yet she worried for his health when the dark circles beneath his eyes became more pronounced. Eventually he fell asleep at the breakfast table over his teacup and Vanessa was ruthless in ordering him to bed, despite his protests. To assuage him, she promised to sit a while in the hallway outside his door as he slumbered, just so that he could be assured of her proximity and thus her safety. He had become almost overbearing in his crusade to ensure that Vanessa managed to walk down the aisle, almost as though he believed that as soon as the name 'Chandler' was hers she would be automatically safe from the forces of darkness. Vanessa supposed that so long as there was breath left in Ethan's body, she would be.

The wedding had been small and intimate, attended only by the group of friends who shared a bond much more akin to family.

Walked down the aisle on Malcolm's arm, and clad in the white gown he had insisted upon seeing her wed in, Vanessa had smiled more than perhaps any of those around her had ever witnessed before. Her general demeanour had become lighter and softer, somehow, as if the darkness that had haunted her had been lifted and all that remained in her eyes was a spark of hope.

A sigh of relief seemed to pass between the congregation of three as the ring had been placed on Vanessa's finger, and the ceremony had been brought to a close. Each one of them had chosen to pointedly ignore the slight trembling of the ground beneath their feet and the gentle flicker of the candles as the priest had declared them man and wife. Perhaps a final fit of rage from the beast that had sought to claim her as his own.

After a large and arguably splendid meal at Grandage Place, the group sat together in a companionable silence to watch the dying embers of the fire in the hearth. For once, contentment was settling over them, and it was a feeling they believed they all could grow accustomed to.

Loosening the characteristically ostentatious cravat around his neck, Sir Lyle cast a sly glance at the newlyweds. Vanessa nestled against her husband's side, her head against his shoulder and her eyes crinkled with mirth as he whispered into her ear. Lyle chuckled to himself, his smile growing more mischievous as he watched them from afar.

"You know, Mr. Chandler, it's hardly fashionable to be so enamoured of one's own wife." His teasing was punctuated with a brief peel of laughter.

"Then I do openly and willingly declare myself as the most unfashionable husband in the whole of England," Ethan retorted playfully, pausing to brush an ever so chaste kiss to Vanessa's lips. Her cheeks pinked and she ducked her head just a little, avoiding the knowing smiles directed at them by their friends.

"Just England, old chap?" teased Victor, who had grown a little wobbly on his feet thanks to the amount of wine he had consumed from Sir Malcolm's private reserve.

"I figure I'll set my sights small at first," was Ethan's fast and easy retort, which seemed to be lost on Victor as he drifted back over to the tray of accompaniments that the cook had prepared in order to soak up some of the vast amount of wine and champagne being consumed.

"Grandage Place will be filled with the pitter patter of tiny paws in no time at all," Mr. Lyle said, a wicked chuckle escaping him when he received such a dark look from Ethan that even Sir Malcolm was forced to bite back a smile.

Finally unable to hide a smile any longer, Ethan rolled his eyes at the older man, whose rosy cheeks rounded into a merry grin once again.

"You know I merely jest, Ethan," Lyle stated, sweeping his gaze over the couple as he leant back in his seat to rest his hands over his rounded stomach. "It did this old fool's heart the world of good to bear witness to your happy event today. I do hope that I shall get to share many more with you both."

Vanessa inhaled slowly, finding it a wholly curious sensation not to have her stomach flutter with nerves, or her heart pound rapidly beneath her breast. She felt so at peace that it was a foreign state to find herself in; but one she hoped very much would last for the rest of her days.

"Have you given any thought to my offer of a honeymoon?" Malcolm prodded, having been silent all this time and content purely to soak in the warm, inviting ambience of the room. "Paris is quite lovely this time of year, or Sir Lyle has a country house in Scotland he has offered you use of."

Lyle nodded his head in vigorous agreement, quickly swallowing a sip of champagne. "Oh, indeed! Say the word and it is yours for the month, my dear. Of course, it does get rather chilly in that region this time of year, but I'm sure keeping warm won't be a problem for newlyweds."

Vanessa laughed indulgently, feeling her cheeks blush again as she tried to deflect Mr. Lyle's insinuation with a demure cough.

"We hadn't quite thought that far ahead," she began, looking up and holding Ethan's gaze until the flash of desire in his eyes caused a flutter of longing in the pit of her stomach. "But… perhaps a few weeks out of London might prove… rejuvenating."

She hid a grin at the wink Ethan discretely levelled at her, before turning her attention back towards their friends. Her hand remained clasped tightly in Ethan's though, and a thrill of happiness shot through her when she felt his thumb rub up and down the gold wedding band that adorned her finger.

Victor, shaking off the vestiges of tiredness and, getting his second wind, added helpfully, "There's some rather excellent fishing spots North of the border, as they say. Trout, salmon, perch, grayling, pollock, wrasse… all manner of fish, actually…"

The four friends hid their amusement behind hands or wine glasses, but Vanessa accepted his recommendation with a kindly smile of thanks.

"I'm not entirely certain that our interests run to fresh water fishing, doctor, but I'm sure the countryside is quite beautiful and lends itself to some fine walks."

Pleased that his advice had been well received, Victor nodded and took a large bite out of a slice of cake, for once appearing entirely at ease amongst the group he had come to nervously associate with trouble – generally of the supernatural persuasion.

"I guess, although we should probably keep a look out for stinging nettles," Ethan quipped, his voice low enough so that only Vanessa could hear. Appearing momentarily scandalised, Vanessa giggled but directed a gentle slap against his chest.

"Hey, you married an uncouth colonial, darlin'…" he retorted, tightening the arm around her waist and drawing her closer to award her temple with an affectionate kiss.

"Indeed I did," she agreed, staring up at her husband with unchecked adoration.

"I hazard that our new Mrs. Chandler would not have it any other way," Sir Malcolm stated with such confidence that Ethan could not help the grateful look he shot the man.

"I would not," conceded Vanessa with a curt nod of her head. She squeezed Ethan's fingers, every inch of her warmed when he reciprocated the gesture, tempering his superior wolf strength so as not to crush her hand.

"Shall we raise a glass?" Victor suggested, doing exactly that even before agreement could be voiced. However, thanks to his state of partial inebriation, he lifted his wine glass far too high and sloshed a generous amount of Merlot onto the pristine white shirt he wore.

"Oh blast!" he cursed out at the same moment that Mr. Lyle leapt to his feet, entirely aghast at the idea of such a fine, expensive garment (which was on loan from Malcolm's wardrobe) being subjected to such treatment.

"We must soak the stain at once!" he exclaimed, jumping into action with surprising speed for a man of his age and shape.

Malcolm threw his head back and laughed indulgently, listening to the tutting noises Sir Lyle made as he retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket to begin dabbing at the offending stain with an expression of sheer horror.

Victor found himself bustled from the room, and Malcolm shot the young couple a tentative glance as he too climbed to his feet.

"Well, then. I think perhaps today's exertions have worn me out. I shall retire for the evening, content to know that all has… for once… ended most happily."

Ethan and Vanessa stood up almost immediately, the latter quickly walking in to the embrace Sir Malcolm offered. Wrapping Vanessa in his arms, he held her close, loathed to let his mind wander back upon the months she had been absent from their lives.

"Thank you for everything," Vanessa said quietly, referencing not only the wedding Malcolm had insisted on paying for, but for the renewed bond the pair had forged. Though tragedy and pain had thrown them together again, the past couple of years had allowed them the chance to renew the love that had always existed between them throughout her childhood. And for that, they could both at least be thankful.

Malcolm shook his head somewhat ruefully, reaching up to brush his fingertips against the white flowers that were pinned into the back of Vanessa's dark curls.

"I regret that I have never been the man I ought to have been. But I do not regret my weaknesses… for they gave me you. It is of course my punishment that they made us little more than strangers." Glancing towards the door, where they could hear voices emanating from the scullery, he added regretfully, "I will never be able to claim you as my child, Vanessa, but I hope I can continue to love you… as my daughter."

Vanessa remained silent, pressing her cheek to his chest in reply and tightening her arms around his waist.

Consenting to smile, Malcolm drew back, sweeping an analytical eye over the woman who in little more than a week had grown more vivacious than he could ever recall from her youth.

"Happiness looks well upon you, Vanessa. I think this old house could stand to see more laughter and joy."

Looking up at him impishly, Vanessa offered with a shrug, "And perhaps a little redecorating?"

Laughing at her expression, which he recalled all too well from her childhood, he assuaged her with an indulgent nod. Narrowing his eyes, he paused suddenly, "Hmmm… and what exactly did you have in mind, my dear?"

Seeing the tiredness that had overcome his face, Vanessa shook her head, leaning up on tip toes to brush a kiss against his cheek. "We shall discuss it over breakfast."

"I shall look forward to it," Malcolm responded, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. "Goodnight, my dear."

He swept from the room before either Vanessa or Ethan could respond, although they watched the doorway for at least a few minutes after he had retreated, neither quite believing that the spell of luck they had recently endured had continued to last.

"Care to join me in our room, Mrs. Chandler?" Ethan murmured, cocking his head as he rose to his own feet and extended a hand to Vanessa, who turned to face him with an almost sigh tumbling from her lips.

"I confess I do not quite wish to close my eyes yet," said Vanessa, cheeks flushing with something resembling embarrassment, "when I do, this day will finally be over… and it has been too long in coming."

Ethan moved to stand behind her before he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to hers as he tried to navigate the almost endless amount of material that constituted her wedding gown. Not that he would have complained, since the sight of her walking down the aisle towards him would remain with him for the rest of his days.

"You looked beautiful today," he informed her, delighting in the smile she turned to reward him with.

"I confess I am slightly loathed to take this gown off…" Vanessa grinned, toying with the lace and minute pearls that had been hand stitched into the bodice. She sighed almost wistfully. "Perhaps it's time to purchase a new wardrobe. I have been in mourning for far too long. I have to believe that the future before us is a good one. So maybe at last it is time to embrace the light."

Turning in his arms, she noted the adoration reflected in his eyes with delight.

"Whatever you wear, you're the most exquisite thing I ever laid eyes on." The sincerity in his voice was evident. Ethan Chandler had been enraptured by the mysterious Miss. Ives from their first meeting, and he was certain that that enchantment would not fade over time.

Vanessa slid her arms up his chest until she could knot her fingers behind his neck, leaning into him as far as her dress would allow. The atmosphere in the room changed, a sudden surge of desire passing between them that was palpable - but then Vanessa supposed that the coupling of the wolf and the scorpion could never be anything but.

Seizing the moment, Ethan curled his fingers around the back of her neck and coaxed her closer. They soon melted into a kiss that spoke of the promise of the night ahead. Drawing back a little breathlessly, Vanessa offered him an enigmatic smile.

"Perhaps I would quite like to retire for the evening after all."

"Yes, ma'am," he responded, pressing a trail of kisses down the side of her neck, his hand blindly sliding down to his chest where Vanessa had pressed her palm to his heart. Entwining their fingers together, Ethan brushed a final kiss to her lips before beginning to lead her towards the door. He assumed Sir Lyle and Victor would forgive them for not bidding them goodnight on this one, rather auspicious occasion.

Suddenly halting in her tracks, Vanessa spied a small, wooden box nestled between a pile of books and maps that sat bereft on a side table.

Instantly recognising it as containing a deck of her Tarot cards, she tugged on Ethan's hand and instead led him over to the table. He appeared uncertain of her sudden change of heart only until he spied the object she reached for; of course Malcolm had kept them, unable to part with something that had such a visceral connection to their once late owner.

Vanessa opened the box and picked up the cards, the weight of them in her palm feeling both familiar and yet alien. She would always be connected to the other side, would always have that understanding of other worldly things that others shied away from, and part of her would always slip between this world and the demimonde. But the fear of what lay beneath that gift, what was waiting in the darkness to strike, was now almost entirely absent.

Lost in thought, Vanessa found she had already shuffled and cut the cards. She removed her left hand from the deck and found her right hand sweeping them out in a broad ark across the table with well-practised ease. Ethan watched her closely, narrowing his eyes as she settled her crystalline gaze on his.

"Care to indulge your wife, Mr. Chandler?" She nodded down towards the cards, and Ethan felt his lips twitch upwards into a smile.

Instinctively he went to reach for a card, yet then he halted, recalling her words to him in the drawing room not long after their first meeting. Pausing for a moment he let his hand hover over the cards, noting how a strange warmth seemed to emanate from one of them as he passed his hand over the spread deck. Moving back to that one card, he kept his eyes trained on Vanessa's as he turned it over.

She peered down at the face of the card and that same knowing smile graced her lips.

He followed her gaze and then he too smiled.

'The Lovers'.

Perhaps they had always been fated to be together, perhaps they had both always known it could end no other way. The wolf of God and the scorpion - destined to love each other despite the claws, talons, and stingers they possessed, and the curses that overwhelmed them. The only light in each other's darkness - a place for the other to find salvation.

Sensing the mood about to turn melancholy, Vanessa ran her fingertips down Ethan's arm until her touch just ghosted the edge of his hand.

"I'm in need of some night work," she began, keeping an admirably straight face at the double entendre as he let out a puff of laughter at the recollection.

Shaking his head in amusement, Ethan Chandler swept his new bride up into his arms and his heart rejoiced at the sound of her laughter and the feel of her in his arms. He advanced eagerly towards the staircase, easily recalling the conversation between himself and the woman he had somehow known even then that he would love.

"Oh honey, aren't we all?!"