A/N: Inspired by the song 'Beauty has her Way,' from one of my favourite movies...

He ambles down the road slowly, the gravel crunching underfoot with every step he takes.

High up, the moon is full and bright as it guides him to his destination, though he really has no need for its illumination.

He is able to see everything quite clearly.

Able to hear any sound no matter how small.

Able to detect any smell, any scent, some stronger and more alluring than others, drawing him in like a magnet.

The thudding of hooves from the distance behind him has him ducking behind a tree, losing himself in the shadows as moments later, the horse-drawn carriage passes him before leaving him alone again.

He continues to walk, his pace casual, hands in his pockets until his intended destination comes into view.

He stops in his tracks to admire it from afar.

The lights, the guests, the sound of the music and chatter emanating from within its confines.

It will be the last place he graces with his presence for tomorrow he will move on, finding another place to call his home.

Temporary.

Every place is temporary.

And that's how he likes it.

He heads towards the large oak tree that stands proud, waiting for the opportune moment to join the next group of guests gathering together as they prepare to enter the small mansion.

The music is louder, so too the sound of the guests inside as they talk, the clinking sound of their glasses as they make endless toasts.

The latest carriage pulls away from where it has halted to let its guests out, the ladies smoothing down their skirts as their partners hold their arms out, waiting for the ladies to take hold of them so they can guide them safely down the short gravel path.

He moves quickly, coming up behind the group so silently that no one hears him.

Notices that he's there.

He patiently waits as invitations are shown to the man standing at the doorway, greeting the guests and ensuring they are indeed welcome at the party.

When his turn comes, the man inquires as to where the lone stranger's invitation is to which he replies he must have misplaced it and would the man on the door be so kind as to confer with the hosts that he is indeed invited.

The man on the door has seen this before, many a person before this young man standing in front of him have tried to gain entry to these parties before, invitations much sort after due to the owner's reputation.

He politely declines the man entry, as he cannot produce the required piece of paper and readies himself to beckon for assistance, should the stranger not heed his warning.

The stranger however, merely smiles at him before waving his hand gracefully between their faces and repeating his question of entering the mansion.

The man on the door graciously nods in agreement and gestures for the young man to enter, thanking him when he bestows a gold coin into his hand for his trouble.

His jacket, cropped at the front and long at the back is gently taken from him, as is his top hat from the attending servants as they steal a glance or two at the handsome stranger.

He enters the ballroom, finding it already full of other guests who are either mingling in groups as they talk, partaking in the small slivers of food being offered off silver trays, drinking the sparkling wine offered freely, or dancing in the middle of the room as a quartet plays in the corner.

He accepts a glass of red wine from a waiter, merely to keep up appearances, nodding in thanks as he continues to walk slowly around the edge of the crowd.

Looking.

Watching.

Seeking.

He is well aware of the stares he draws from both male and female guests.

Many wondering who he is, where he has come from and how he came to be here.

Many are also wondering how to gain his attention, for many different purposes.

He lets a small smile play on his lips as he knows he will accept a handful of those invitations.

All with the same purpose.

He moves gracefully around the fringe of the room, seemingly smiling at the guests as he passes them by, but not connecting with anyone in particular.

There is no need to become familiar with anyone as it does not suit the purpose of his want.

His need.

He indulges in both males and females, depending upon his mood.

Depending on what hunger he needs to sate.

As he moves around, he can smell the change in the air, arousal radiating as he passes by some of the guests.

He makes eye contact with some of the women, knowing his appetite tonight is a mixture of both hunger and sexual want.

So, female it shall be.

Perhaps more than one?

Now to choose...he did like the shy ones who had no idea what was happening and gently faded before they could even comprehend what was happening. The feisty ones though...he did so enjoy the thrill of them fighting for their last breath.

He was like an animal toying with his prey, their screams only heightening his own arousal.

Nothing surpassed the moment of him reaching his orgasm as he sated his hunger.

But ever the gentleman, he made sure that she reached her peak too, I mean, what better way to go than death by orgasm?

He smirks as he mentally picks out a handful of women that will do nicely this evening and decides to approach the one in the red dress when something makes him stop in his tracks.

It's a scent.

But it's not like any scent he's ever noticed before.

Obviously, he's attuned to each individual's unique scent that they give, but none have ever had such an effect on him like this, and so personally.

It's like it's wrapping itself around him, permeating his senses in a delicious way, the hairs on his neck standing on end as his entire being is on high alert.

He's unsure what he should be feeling at this moment.

He looks around, searching for the source of this strange feeling that continues to envelop him until he finally sees her.

Tucked away in a corner by herself, watching the other guests with an expression on her face that he can't quite place.

Envy?

Wistfulness?

She then sighs and looks away briefly, her gaze travelling to another man across the room who is engaged in conversation with another woman, reaching up and twirling a lock of the woman's hair around his finger, the look on his face indicating he knows her on a much more intimate level.

"What about Adelaide?" the woman whispers.

"What about her?" he counters, "she obeys me fully otherwise she knows the consequences she faces if she does not."

The young woman looks away, her pale skin turning pink as nearby women gave her sympathetic glances as they whisper to one another.

It is then that he realises what her expression is.

Sadness.

She turns her back to the festivities and hurries outside onto one of the many balconies, the cool of the night air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassing heat that flares through her body, the sound of the sympathetic coos from the other women around her more than she can bear.

As he watches the young woman retreat, he realises just how easy she is going to be.

He can see how in her demeanour, how she carries herself, that she has given up.

He almost feels...disappointed.

He has hopes that on his final night here that he will leave both sated and satisfied after a feisty encounter.

He knows he can easily find that fire from someone else, but for reasons unbeknownst to him, she seems to have this magnetic pull that he can't help but be drawn into.

Even if he doesn't want to be.

Perhaps an easy one to start off with, an appetizer if you will, thought he is certain she would have made for such a sweet dessert.

His feet begin to carry his body before he even realises it and he is navigating his way through the guests to follow her.

His impatience growing as other women try to stop him in his search for her, halting him in his tracks as they introduce themselves, hoping to steal some time with him, their lust and desire for him radiating from them.

Excusing himself as quickly and as politely as he can, so as not to draw attention to himself, he offers them a kiss on their hand with the promise of a dance later in the evening, even though he has no such intentions of honouring them.

Once he has cleared himself from the crowd, her scent was easy to detect, and he follows it out to the balcony, rushing out so quickly that he comes to a sudden stop in his tracks, the noise startling her so that she turns around abruptly at the unexpected sound.

They stand staring, neither of them saying a word.

He takes in her shallow breathing, the way her hand flew to her heart as her lips part slightly in shock. The sound of her heart beat is like the rumble of a freight train, reverberating within his ears.

Everything about her overpowers his senses in such a way he has never come close to experiencing it in all of his years.

From where she stands, he gives the appearance that she should be afraid of him.

There is a glint in his eye that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end and goose bumps form on her skin.

But then his gaze softens, and she feels a strange sense of calm wash over her.

Usually he is never at a loss for words and if he was here to purely sate his thirst, he would have easily finished his task and have disappeared in the blink of an eye.

So why weren't his feet propelling him to her, his hands already around her neck and his mouth on her skin?

Instead he found himself doing something quite odd and unexpected.

"Forgive me," he spoke, "for I did not mean to startle you Miss..."

What was he doing?

He did not need to know if she was okay and he certainly did not need to know her name.

Or did he?

"It's...it's quite alright," she replies with a small smile, "I...it's Adelaide, or Addie, either is fine..." she trails off, feeling flustered.

"Adelaide...Adelaide..." he lets the name roll off his tongue and despite his conflicting emotions, he likes the way it sounds, "a beautiful name for a beautiful creature," he says as he takes a step closer to her.

Adelaide blushes profusely again, her hands moving to smooth out the imaginary wrinkles of her dress.

"I...I am not beautiful Sir," she says quietly, "there are many more women who are much more beautiful and worldly than I could ever dream to be."

He frowns a little and cocks his head to the side in confusion.

Does she not know how breathtaking she really is?

"What do you consider beautiful? Worldly?" he asks her.

Adelaide's eyes light up as she considers her answer but as quickly as the light comes, it fades just as quickly.

"I would dearly love..." she stops short, remembering it is not the proper way for a lady to behave in public, she must remain demure and dutiful, "it...it is nothing...it does not matter anyhow..."

"How could your dreams not matter?" he asks her, curious.

He sees before him a little bird who clearly needs and wants to be set free but instead has her imaginary wings clipped, preventing her from any form of freedom she so desperately desires.

"My path is already chosen, therefore what I want does not matter..." she replies, her chin lifting slightly, "and you, good Sir, have not shared your name with me," she changes the subject.

"It's Harold, or Harry," he bows his head slightly, "either is fine," he smiles as he repeats her own words to her.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she bows her head slightly in return, knowing he must be a nobleman of some sort, someone obviously above her if she was to go by his manner and attire.

"The pleasure, I can assure you, is very much mine," he replies as he takes her gently by the hand and lays a kiss upon the back of it.

As Harry's lips met Adelaide's skin, several things happen at once.

The first is with Harry.

Now being a supernatural creature, a creature of the night and of immortality, he has several gifts he can use at his disposal. One in particular is the ability of 'sight,' that is, to be able to see something within the person he is in physical contact with. It can be from their past, their present or their future but it is an ability that he has always been able to control when he wishes to see at his own will.

But when he touches Adelaide, he is hit with a view into her future and he cannot stop it.

Her unmoving form is lying out on a bed, her eyes open and devoid of any life. A newborn baby girl is bundled up in a sheet and quickly taken away by a woman and out of the room while two other women pull a white sheet up and over Adelaide's body, covering her face.

Although the sheet covers her body, it does nothing to hide the blood-soaked bed she lies in.

Harry pulls his lips away from Adelaide's hand and immediately stands up, his own eyes wide, but his hold on her hand he keeps.

The second is Adelaide.

Her shocked expression mirrors Harry's, but for a very different reason.

When Harry touches her, a feeling she cannot describe sweeps through her body.

Adelaide cannot even begin to put into words, but it was as though this stranger that she has never seen before until this very evening, gives her the feeling that she has already known him her entire life.

His lips feel like he is burning a mark into her skin but of course when he stands up abruptly, she looks down as he holds her hand and there is no such mark to be seen.

Harry and Adelaide have barely any time to respond to each other when another person bursts out onto the balcony.

The third occurrence is this man.

Adelaide rips her hand out of Harry's grasp and takes a couple of steps back as the man approaches them and Harry recognises him as the man from earlier that he saw Adelaide staring at.

"Adelaide," he says in a low voice, "what on earth do you think you are doing?"

"I...I..." she stammers as Harry feels the fear begin to radiate from her.

"Is that all you can manage?" he sneers, "how do you think this makes me look, my fiancée out here by herself in the company of...of..." he gestures towards Harry.

"I do not think we have been formally introduced," Harry says smoothly as he steps towards the man, extending his hand, "Harold Styles," he says.

The man gives him a hard glare before taking the proffered hand.

"Jonathon Bertrand," he replies, "Viscount, Jonathon Bertrand," he corrects himself, throwing his title in for good measure as he straightens his posture in an attempt to look intimidating.

Harry holds his hand a touch longer, openly searching Jonathon's mind.

He sees Jonathon's present, sees him bedding several women, none of them being Adelaide.

He sees Jonathon stumbling home drunk, forcing himself onto Adelaide with his hand over her mouth to muffle her screams.

He sees Jonathon throw her to the ground, a horse whip in his hand as he taints her back with it until it turns a scarlet red.

Finally, he sees Jonathon's future as he sits in a hall, a nearby door opening. The same woman holding the newborn baby girl in Harry's vision of Adelaide's bringing it to him, a sad shake of her head. Jonathon merely looks down at the baby in disgust before waving his hand at it, as if to discard it before he stands from his seat and walks away, not looking back.

Harry does not know why these visions anger him so, Adelaide is just a woman, another in a long line to simply please him, give him his fill before he discards her.

You know this not to be true, his inner voice reminds him, you've known this since she first made herself known to you.

She is not just any woman to you anymore.

Harry's grip tightens on Jonathon's hand, causing the latter to gasp a little as Harry pulls him closer.

Who does he think he is? Jonathon thinks.

As if he is really of a higher title?

Hardly.

Regardless of this stranger's title, Jonathon feels he is the superior man standing here and he is ready to challenge this Harry to leave the premises immediately.

"My apologies if I did not make myself clearer, forgive me," Harry says, "Harold Styles, Marquess," his tone low.

The way in which Harry speaks has Jonathon lifting his gaze from their joined hands to his face.

Jonathon stares at Harry and the colour begins to drain from his face.

Gone is the sparkling, clear green colour, only to be replaced with a deep red crimson, and as Harry opens his mouth to speak again, Jonathon sees the two canine teeth that have lowered slightly.

Jonathon's skin becomes clammy, his breath stuck in his throat as he feels the sudden urge to empty the contents of his stomach.

Harry's eyes widen in warning as he feels Jonathon's knees begin to buckle, knowing this is the moment when those who are weak will throw themselves down on the ground and beg for mercy.

"Leave," he growls, low enough so that only Jonathon can hear, "you never saw me, and you will never speak of me, is that understood?"

Jonathon can only manage a small nod.

"Let me remind you," Harry leans forward and gives a small sniff, his nose crinkling at the scent, "if you do, I shall be able to detect your pungent smell quite easily and once I find you, I shall snap your neck in two as though it were a matchstick, are we clear?"

Again, Jonathon can scarcely nod.

Harry releases him and steps back as Jonathon staggers backwards.

His terrified gaze meets Adelaide's confused one as she waits for him to come at her, to drag her away and punish her for what he must surely see as an embarrassing betrayal on her part.

But it does not come.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Viscount Jonathon Bertrand," Harry tips his head ever so slightly.

Jonathon looks again to Harry then back to a now bewildered Adelaide before turning around and running back through the balcony doors.

Harry knows he will be back, most likely with reinforcements but if he were to silence him there on the spot, he also knows that it will terrify Adelaide, and he does not want that for her.

"Whatever...Jonathon!" Adelaide calls out, preparing to follow him however Harry places his hand on her arm to halt her, "I must go to him!" Adelaide tries to shake him off.

"I believe he said he feels slightly unwell," Harry offers as a way to delay her.

"Then I should absolutely go to him," Adelaide goes to move but again Harry stops her, "please...I must...you...you don't know what he will do..."

"He will not," Harry says calmly, "he will not harm you again."

Adelaide stops struggling and looks at Harry.

"How..." she shakes her head.

"I am a very observant man," he smiles.

Adelaide's cheeks redden, embarrassed that a mere stranger can see what her relationship with Jonathon is truly like.

Just as the whole town knows.

Harry regards her silently for a moment.

Why does he suddenly care so much for this creature?

Why does he want to know everything about her?

Why does he have this urge to protect her?

To...possess her?

Harry moves to the balcony doors, closing them and locking them before returning to stand in front of Adelaide, holding his hand out as the music begins again from the main ballroom.

"Would you do me the honour of just one, simple dance?" he bows slightly.

Adelaide's eyes flicker towards the doors before they settle back on Harry, his hand beckoning her as does his smile.

And his eyes.

She knows she could very well lose herself in them if she is not careful.

For she is already intended to another, no matter how he treats her.

"Tell me your story Adelaide," he says, "how did you come to be with such a wretched man?"

Adelaide gives her head a small shake as she accepts Harry's outstretched hand, how does he seem to know what she is thinking?

As Harry gently places his hand upon her waist and slowly guides her around the balcony, he waits for her to answer his question.

Adelaide's gaze hardens and in that moment, Harry sees past her vulnerability, he sees the fire within her.

"It is just how it is," she sighs, "our fathers marry us off as soon as they can, so we are no longer a burden, only to virtually become with child straight away, and which must be a male to carry on the family name," she points out, "only to spend the rest of our lives obeying our husbands every command no matter..." she pauses, "no matter what," she whispers.

"Have you disobeyed your fiancée?" Harry asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from her.

Adelaide cannot understand why, but she feels safe with Harry, as though he is not judging her, but wanting to listen to what she has to say.

She has never encountered any man like him before.

"I want more than this life," she suddenly exclaims, "I do not wish to be owned virtually as a prisoner in my own home," she scoffs, "I do not wish to be tied down to be a wife and mother, to be taken out and put on display when it suits my husband. I do not wish to entertain his boring friends, to cook and clean, to do his bidding in the bedroom or shoved on my knees," she spits out and now that she has started she cannot stop.

As Harry guides her around the balcony, he smiles down at her, encouraging her to keep speaking freely, finally seeing the fire that was behind her eyes.

"What is it that you wish to do, if you do not wish to play the dutiful woman of the house?" he questions.

"I want to travel the world! I want to read, explore new places, touch, taste, see and smell, I want to see all the different countries and cultures, I want to experience life and all it has to offer," she says as her eyes light up and she speaks with passion, "I want to live my life, not just exist in it..." she looks up at Harry, "I want to be free..." she says, almost yelling her impassioned plea to him before she stops dead in her tracks.

Realising what she has just done, how she spoke, how she behaved.

Harry must think her an absolute beast.

However, Adelaide could not have been more wrong.

Harry was positively enchanted by her.

But before he can say anything, Adelaide throws herself onto the ground before him.

"Please, I beg your forgiveness," she says in a pained voice, "I do not know what came over me and I beg you, please do not tell my fiancée or my father. I have behaved appallingly so, I have brought such shame on them...I..." she stops as Harry kneels down in front of her and holds her by the arms, gently helping her to stand on her feet again.

He now knows what she is to him.

His equal.

The one person he is bound to find eventually.

The one person who will be not only his equal, his travelling companion, but his friend, confidant and lover.

His other half.

His Nykin.

"I think nothing but admiration for you," he says, "I know more about you than you think dove."

He releases her and begins to pace around the balcony, trying to gather his thoughts, knowing they do not have much time.

"What would you say if I could offer you everything you just asked for?" he says, "would you take it?"

Adelaide shakes her head.

"What you heard were foolish dreams..." she reasons.

"What if I told you," Harry cuts her off, "that I live your dreams?"

Adelaide regards him sceptically.

Although Harry's gaze is on Adelaide, he can hear the commotion from the next room that he knows is coming for them.

Jonathon and his cronies.

Adelaide can now hear it too and she looks at Harry, her eyes widening in fear as she knows what punishment she will surely be receiving later in the evening.

"It is Jonathon, and he is bringing others with him," Harry says, confirming her fears.

"He...he will beat me, do...unspeakable things, they will do unspeakable things..." she trails off, shame seeping into her voice.

The rage that Harry feels for all she must endure flares through his veins, but he knows he must push it down as he fears it will add to her panic to see him turn, especially in such heated anger.

He moves so he stands in front of her.

"I can give you it all, everything you desire," he says, "all you need do is say yes...come with me!"

"I hardly know you!" Adelaide cries, "do you honestly expect me to run off with a stranger? What if you try..."

"You are already dead," he cuts her off, knowing that time is of the essence, "I have seen your future, you die during childbirth and your daughter is abandoned and left to die as well."

Adelaide pales at Harry's words, shaking her head in disbelief.

Though something about the way he speaks, the way he looks at her, tells her that she somehow knows there is truth in what he says.

She cannot explain it, but the feeling in her belly tells her so.

The angry voices grow nearer, Harry knows there is not much time left to convince Adelaide to flee with him.

He will not leave her behind.

"I'm different Adelaide," he explains, "I have gifts, I have the power of immortality," he says, "I can give it just as I can easily take it."

Adelaide covers her ears with her hands, shaking her head.

"Do you not feel it, this...this connection between us?" he implores, knowing he has so little time to convince her.

He wants her to come of her own free will.

Adelaide removes her hands and looks at Harry.

"I thought myself mad," she says, "I knew that someone was here tonight though I could not see them...I felt this...pull...as though someone was waiting for me," she says, "but one simply cannot feel like that upon one's first encounter, can they?"

"But you do?" he asks, "as do I."

He holds out his hands, willing her to take hold of them, his heart soaring when she does.

The voices were at the other side of the door, banging loudly on it, demanding to be let in.

Adelaide jumps in fright however Harry is unaffected by it, he simply focuses on making the connection he is so desperately trying to create with Adelaide.

"I can give you everything, I can take you anywhere," he said, "but I must first show you what I truly am so that you understand..."

Adelaide nods though her heart is beating furiously within her chest as she watches Harry close his eyes.

When he opens them, they are again a deep crimson red and his mouth is parted slightly to reveal his elongated teeth.

Adelaide gasps in shock, ready to pull back when she realises that Harry is making no move to come nearer to her. Rather, he is simply standing before her, holding her hands within his, stroking them with his thumbs.

"You're...you're a..." she whispers, her hand raising to cup his cheek, her heart beat slowing down as he relaxes into her touch.

"I am," he replies, "and this is how I am able to see the world and explore everything it has to offer."

The banging on the door starts to move the old doors from their hinges, a few more pushes from the other side and the men will break through.

"Come with me," he says, "be with me...let me give you the life you deserve..." he pleads.

Adelaide lets his promises wash over her, drawing her into him as she gives into her own desires.

"Harry..." she begins but stops when the doors burst open.

"There he is! Grab him!" Jonathon shouts, pointing at Harry and pushing the men forward, knowing what Harry is, he has no intention of going near him.

Harry turns and stands protectively in front of Adelaide, his mouth opening as a warning hiss sounds from him.

He will kill anyone who tries to touch her.

The men collectively gasp and freeze in their place, taking in the stranger's appearance.

"Adelaide, what say you?" Harry whispers as he slowly backs them away, closer to the balcony ledge.

"Don't just stand there!" Jonathon shouts, "get him!"

Adelaide holds onto Harry's arms from behind, pulling him to her in fear from Jonathon's men.

Harry turns his head to her as his arm continues to shield and protect her.

"Take me with you Harry," she whispers, "please don't leave me."

No sooner are the words out of her mouth does Harry then turn around, his arm that is shielding her now wrapping around her waist.

"Hold onto me," he says as he grips her tightly before running and jumping over the balcony railing causing Adelaide to scream in fright as he takes her over with him.

Harry however easily lands with her, cushioning her fall as they land on the ground.

"Ready?" he asks her.

"I...I don't know," she laughs, "this is positively the craziest thing I have ever done!"

"Let me rephrase my question," he says as he looks up to the men yelling from the balcony and pointing down at them, drawing attention from the guards along the front of the mansion, "are you ready to live your life my darling Nykin?"

"Yes..." Adelaide breathes out, "yes I am Harry!"

~~~~~~

The couple weave their way through the crowd, the hum of the locals mixing with the visiting tourists creates an exciting atmosphere, one that has him smiling down at her as she almost dances with excitement.

She has been wanting to come to Morocco for quite some time and he has put her off for the last few months, pleading with her to wait for the kinder weather so that she would enjoy her time here more.

Running ahead of him, her fingers delight in the multi-coloured fabrics until she pulls off a bright blue scarf and wraps it around her neck, waiting for him to catch up to her to see if he likes it as much as she does.

He says nothing, simply slides the scarf from around her neck and offers payment to the vendor.

He then wraps it around his own neck and continues walking behind her as she dances through the lane, stopping and delighting at almost every stand.

Her eyes are now a deep blue, much brighter than they once were and her lips a permanent blood-stained red.

She is happier than she has ever been, happier than she has ever known.

And truth be told, so is he.

He is no longer in any rush to move on, everything he does revolves around her.

He has given her everything she ever wanted, promised her the world and delivered it.

His heart is now full.

Her heart is now living.

Although she is now part of the undead, she is now more alive, than ever before.