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Atticus relinquished Sethan, only to hear a voice that sent a cold shiver across his scalp. It was one he had not heard in thirty years or more, and one that he had often wondered if he would ever hear again. It was a voice that conjured up images of shared friendship that felt as warm and cherished as the cover of an antique book, and at the same time of bitter regret that struck as poignant a quill as any into his mind’s eye. 

He turned and looked into the face of Raleigh Oakwood, his face pulling tight into a thin lipped, if somewhat apologetic, smile. 

“Hello, Raleigh. It has been a long time.”

The image of the wedge that had come between them, [i]her[/i] face, transposed itself before Atticus’ vision. Lena had been her name. There were few times in his life that Atticus ever regretted the reality of his being, but what it had cost him with Raleigh had given him that twinge of self-hate. As he blinked, Lena’s face vanished, and he was again looking into the cool eyes of a once true friend. If Atticus was being honest, he knew that he had not only requested Raleigh because of the Dryad’s skill. Above all he wanted to see if after so many years an incubus could attain true forgiveness.

Atticus stepped closer to the Dryad, his voice dropping as he drew nearer. “Raleigh, it means a great deal to me that you came. I know there has been a lot of bad-blood between us, but perhaps at the very least we can come to some truce after so many years? I would appreciate…”

His voice caught in his throat as his eyes were drawn to another figure stepping into the stone circle. She had come. Even in the dim light her large blue eyes shone against the smooth china-like skin of her face. The almost silver-sheen of her fair blond hair cascaded down to her petite shoulders, and Atticus’ eyes followed the strands down her body. The memories of their night together, seemingly ages ago, flashed before his mind like hellfire, and sent a wave of evoked pleasure down his spine. 

“Raleigh…I,” Atticus stammered. He looked to the Dryad, “I am sorry, we will have to talk another time. I have more apologies to make.” 

Atticus slipped from where Raleigh stood, and glided slowly before Siya. His crimson eyes searched her face as his mouth searched for words. His mind pulled against itself with emotion, filled with guilt, joy, regret, elation, self-loathing, lust, and doubt. At last he was able to smile. It was a smile that split his face and drew crinkled lines around his eyes. As he looked down to Siya, the smile resplendent upon his face, he tried to force it away. Seeing what he thought was incredulity in the tiny vampire’s eyes, he felt almost ashamed to show such unbridled happiness in the face of one he had hurt. 

“I have missed you, Siya.” He said, his voice low but clear in the crisp night air. His eyes cast downward, glowing faintly against his cheeks as he drew his gaze from hers. “I should have done more, should have been there.”

Upon Atticus’ skin, unseen save for the barest of images at his neck and wrists, the angels and demons fought in bloody and roiling combat. Their blows and silent cries of pain reflecting the storm of emotion raging inside their host, and Atticus pulled at his sleeves self-consciously before forcing himself to once again meet Siya’s eyes.