I awoke sat up in bed and practically hyperventilating, my heart pounding as if it would erupt from my chest. My hands were balled into fists, and when I gradually unfurled my fingers I saw I'd been gripping the sheets so tight there were large tears on either side of me in the slate-colored fabric. “Only a dream,” I told myself. “Only a dream.” But I could still see her frightened face and my mouth was full of the taste of her blood. I felt like I had desecrated her memory by warping it into some perverse blood fantasy. “Elizabeth, why do you haunt me now?” I whispered in the dark. Probably my conscience playing tricks. I really wasn't the man she had known me to be. Haven't been for centuries. “Well,” I...

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