Chapter 4

Cherry Red hair glowed on a shoulder of black silk. The pale faces pressed together in a kiss. The hands clasped to their right. Bodies pressed close together. The children danced slowly to the song, too wrapped up in each other, in the moment to realize they were the last two on the dance floor.

Yseult watched them from afar, admiring their single-mindedness. The night was a time for life, a time for enjoying all that could be had. Blood, lust, battles, knowledge- it all was best had in the night.

"Devushka, are we going to lock up before daybreak?" Nicholai leaned against the bar beside her, arms crossed. "Or are we going to let them sleep here?"

She sighed, not wanting to break the children up.

"Just let the song end, okay Nicholai? Then we'll lock up. We can afford two minutes." She smiled over at him, before turning back to the young ones dancing.

"Always the fighter for love, Yseult."

"And yet there is a distinct lacking in my bed."

Nicholai chuckled as he walked back behind the bar.

"Personal choices, da? Stop wearing that cross and perhaps you'll get more takers."

Sighing once more, Yseult turned back to watch the children. Finally, as the song tapered out, they turned from each other and walked to the door, holding hands. They smiled as they passed Yseult.

"G'night, Yseult."

"Good night." She closed the door behind them, turning to watch as Nicholai pulled on his coat, his white blonde hair falling in his eyes.

"And you, I suppose, going home to an empty bed?" She smirked, having noticed a young sable-headed girl waiting outside the door.

"You know me, devushka. Never one for missing an opportunity." He hugged her with one arm. "You okay in this big place all alone, or should I make arrangements for you as well?"

"Go on, go." She pushed him to the door with a grin. "Go to your lover, ladies man."

"Of course." With a final grin, Nicholai stepped out the door, kissing the girl and walking off holding her hand.

Yseult closed and charmed the door, walking through the empty club. Dead as it was in the daytime, the very shadows held secrets from her. Winding around the tables, Yseult climbed the stairs to the catwalk, crossing over it's pathways till she reached the door to the roof.

The sky was lightening, dawn approaching swiftly. The first tinges of the sun colored the horizon she saw across the canal. The air was cool as she stood there, watching as the bakery across the alley unloaded flour into it's storage room. The small mortals stood below, calling out to each other in an effort to be ready for the customers that would soon be banging at it's doors.

There were some things she missed. ______

Opium and exhaustion pulled Metro down to the coffin in the depths of his mothers home. Red velvet embraced his body as he sunk into its tender grip. His eyelashes brushed his cheek, begging to be put to rest as he stared up into Morgaine's doe-like eyes.

"La bonne nuit, le garçon charmant." Her face creased in that wry smile she possessed, closing the top of the coffin upon her son.

The dark fell over Metro like a soft cloud, and his dreams called to him in tongues only he could understand.

A dark plain of rock stretched out on all sides of him, it's boundless lengths ending only to meet with the sky, overcast and menacing. A threat of lightning and rain was held within them, a chill breeze gushing over his face. Metro pulled his coat tighter around him, frowning as he walked forward into the wind.

A walk produced nothing, no signs of life, nothing in the distance, no apparent ways out of this horrible devastated wasteland. Metro ran forward, the chilled air turning icy at his speed, the emptiness rushing by as he ran, and ran, and ran.

Nothing.

Snarling, he spun around, daring the place to be empty as he spun. Daring the plain to go on in this state of balance, daring anything to happen. The storm to break. The rain to fall. The earth to erupt with tremors. The ground to open and swallow him up.

Nothing.

He yelled out into the void, the hopelessness of the situation beginning to sink in to his bones, to push through to his heart. He screamed out across the wasteland, yelling for someone, anyone to find him here. Anything. Anything to get his mind off this terrible agonizing emptiness.

"Metro."

He spun.

Yseult stood behind him, wild green eyes laughing at him. She tossed her hair back over one shoulder, smirk playing over her lips. Her long coat flapped in the breeze, blowing back from her slim black clad body. She stared at him, silent, satisfied with his attention.

His heart beat in his chest, frantic, as he stared at her, fixed by her gaze, lost in a deserted wasteland of nothing but him.

And her.

She laughed, a quiet chuckle, almost under her breath, as she turned from him, walking away. No longer under her gaze, Metro found himself again, and ran after her.

"Ysuelt!" He ran to her, grabbing her shoulder, pulling her around. A dark face greeted him, huge brown eyes staring at him curiously.

"Metro?" Morgaine stared at her son, out of his coffin and walking around in the middle of the night. "What's wrong?"

Glancing frantically about him, Metro saw he was in a hallway of Morgaine's house.

"I.sorry, Morgaine. Dreams taking me for a midday walk." He shook his head, exhaustion suddenly rolling over him in a wave. "I.just had a really odd dream. Sorry..just.don't worry about it. I'll get back to my bed now. Good night." He turned to go, one hand running over his dark hair.

"Wait, wait wait. You come barging in here in the middle of the night, crying something about Vivianne's one, and you tell me not to worry about it? Metro, that girl is prophesied to be your greatest enemy. You know what our dreams mean."

"No one died, okay, Morgaine? It's all okay. Just let me go back to bed."

"No. Metro you tell me what-"

"NO! I'm fine, Morgaine, I'll deal with this on my own! It's not your business, it's not anyone's business! This is between me and her! It will end how it ends!" Metro turned on his heel, stalking down the hall the way he came, slamming the door to the hallway behind him.

"If only you knew how it ended, mon amour." Morgaine turned back to her room, closing the door behind her.

In his coffin again, Metro tossed and turned, stuck between sleep and life.

______

Night rose in a heavy solid monochrome, Yseult rising from her bed to dress. Black vinyl pants and a tight candy apple red corset, her hair combed back into a long braid down her back. She left her room, descending from the catwalk to the club, just filling with the first of it's night's occupants.

She turned to the bar, approaching it languidly, still stretching cramps from her arms. With a final yawn, she rested her forearms on the bar, greeting Nicholai with a nod.

A soft hand on her shoulder, a wave of an aura she knew.

"Yseult."

Turning, Yseult was greeted with the sight of her mother, dressed in her classic long white dress, blonde hair hanging to her waist.

"Vivianne." Yseult's arms wound about her mothers thin body, the two women holding each other close. Vivianne smelled of jacaranda and oleander, the flowers of her hills.

Vivianne pulled away from her daughter after a moment, face serious. She looked down at Blue.

Blue turned to Yseult.

"We need to talk."