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she said, her face against his chest once more.
    “I can’t wait.”
    He walked down the stone steps, Sarah following him with her eyes, leaning on the doorframe. She watched him go, then closed the door. There was still the cleaning to do – weird how much mess making a cup of tea could generate – and then she could drag herself to bed, to a dreamless sleep.

Shadows in Edinburgh
     
    Is this love
    If every time you go
    I fall?

     
    The night was busy and full of sounds, as always around the Royal Mile approaching Christmas time. Bright shop windows, people coming in and out of restaurants and pubs, voices in many languages and the inevitable piper entertaining the tourists. And still, there was something in the mist curling around the stones of the ancient buildings, something in the white moon above and in the dark winding streets, that made Edinburgh look mysterious and slightly sinister even on the busiest, liveliest of nights.
    Nicholas felt at home there. Nowhere else in the world, no other places he had passed through or lived in during his years of wandering resonated with him as this Scottish city did. There was something black and rotting in the heart of Edinburgh, a taste for death that called to him. He often walked the streets and closes and wynds until late, and sometimes until dawn – he hardly needed any sleep to sustain his human body – letting the cold and dark seep into his bones.
    As he strode down the Royal Mile, Nicholas attracted quite a lot of attention – with his black clothes and his height, he towered over the passers-by. He always got a few second glances, especially from girls and women mesmerized by his perfect, flawless face and his muscular frame. Nicholas never seemed to have to yield to anyone in his path. People moved left and right to avoid bumping into each other, with unspoken agreements of looks and body language, but Nicholas walked straight on. He wasn’t aggressive with it – he didn’t elbow people, he didn’t glare at them, he didn’t even look at them. They seemed to move of their own accord to let him pass, the stream of people opening up in two wings, with the black-clad young man in the middle.
    That night he felt unusually peaceful. Things with Sarah were going according to plan. He hadn’t lied to her about her safety; she would be spared. She was no longer in danger of losing her life by the hand of that deranged woman, Cathy Duggan and her Valaya. She wasn’t in danger of being attacked by the Surari at all. They’d keep coming at her, but it’d just be a well-rehearsed dance, under Nicholas’s supervision.
    They won’t touch a hair on your head, my Sarah. You’ll follow me to the Shadow World, and be my wife for the rest of days. You and I will guard the opening between worlds, and my chains will be so much more bearable, and the darkness less daunting because of you. Your skin will turn as pale as mine, and you’ll dream more than ever – you’ll hardly ever be awake.
    But Nicholas knew that there was some way to go before he could call Sarah his own. He needed to convince her that going with him was her only choice. No woman could be forced to be the King of Shadows’ bride. She wouldn’t be able to be tied to the Shadow World then. No, she had to come willingly, as his mother had.
    Once again, his mother’s face came to haunt him, shimmering in the shop windows, in the moonlit puddles, in every woman he saw. It was the face that appeared in his sweetest dreams, a distant memory of happiness never to come back.
    Ekaterina Krol chose to marry the King of Shadows. He’d used her newborn baby, little, vulnerable Nicholas, and the desperate need of mother and son for each other as a bargaining tool to convince her. Her whole family had warned her of the dark stranger, a man who often disappeared for days without a word – even the King of Shadows, with all his powers, couldn’t be away from the Shadow World for long periods at a time. She