Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.

Penthouse Conservatory -- Upper East Side -- Manhattan

The large main room has hardwood floors, but most of this is covered in an exqui site Persian rug, the details of which can draw one into a trance if stared at t oo long. Soft, large, white furniture surrounds a long glass coffee table suppor ted by bronze-work leonine figures. The large mahogany wet-bar is backed by shel ves with glass cabinets revealing a grand assortment of liqueurs. Near the windo w-like glass doors to the balcony whose flows of soft white curtains are carried on the barest breeze, there stands an ebony grand piano. The silver candelabra upon it is filled with yellow-white candles all of the purest bees wax, and thes e are reflected again in the lustrous surface of the wood. The walls are an off- white stucco set with book-shelves and cabinets, and several large landscape pai ntings of Venice and Paris; Cathedrals and bridges, boats and the moonlight on t he water, all the artwork depicts these places at night.

Hope

The lady before you has honey-gold blonde curls that flow over her should ers almost to her waist. It is layered around her facegiving way to the stray te ndrils to fall in her face. Her eyes are almost almond shaped and of the most br illiant green, framed by long light brown lashes and lightly arched sandy blonde eyebrows. Her nose is small and almost button like. Her lips are somewhat full and rose colored, devoid of any make up. She stands about 5'6" and has a slender build similar to that of a gymnist or figure skater.Not a bean pole like a mode l and not voluptous like a Hollywood starlett, just your average girl.

Today Hope wears a lime green, short sleeved blouse of simple cotton. Th e color serves well to bring out the green in her eyes and make them alomst blaz e brilliantly with the shade of the awakening of the earth in Spring. A simple w oven leather belt cinches the loose pale blue jeans at her waist where her shirt is tucked in. There is nothing daring or seductive about her clothing as it giv es her more of the air of the All-American girl-next-door type. On cooler days s he has with her a light baseball style jacket of royal blue that has a Kentucky Wildcats emblem on the back. Her feet are adorned with a simple pair of non-desc ript white sneakers.

Amadeo

You see a young man of perhaps seventeen years, his shoulder length aubu rn hair shimmers like smooth silk, waving with every subtle breeze or movement. His rivetting dark eyes glitter brilliantly from his angelic yet stone-like pale , statuesque face. His youthful yet rich velvet voice issues from perfectly bowe d lips that barely move when he speaks, but whos stark,sharp smile can appear su ddenly. The boyish features are seamless but his manner and intensity belongs to the ages.

Hope sits on the couch, staring blankly at the cold fireplace. She clutches some thing in her hand her mind going in 500 directions at once.

Amadeo comes out of the back rooms, clad in only a long red silk robe and a pair of black silk pajama bottoms. He pauses, hair dripping from the bath, the scent ed oil having left a soft rose fragrence over him. "Goodevening, Hope. You were gone when I awoke, and... when you came back I was in the bath." Why does he fee l the need to explain his not being there?

Hope nods absently, not even bothering to look around. She hears him but right n ow she's elsewhere. In her black and sooty hand she still clenches the silver ne cklace that is all that remains of Larson. How did this happen? Why? Was he alwa ys like that? Was she a fool again? Was he indeed the one who killed Jennifer? S he has to mentally remind herself to blink as her eyes dry from staring too long .

Amadeo comes to sit down near her. His body feels luxiuriously warm to him after his long soak in the hot water. It was probably scalding, but right now, he alm ost seems to give off the warm presence of a mortal. Her warmth is much more ple asing to him however, and the sweet scent of her is only slightly marred by the bit of char that clings to her hand. "What happened?" he asks, his eyes focusing their clear and too-perfect vision on the ash powdered over her fingers.

Hope continues to stare at the cold fireplace and the ash that resides within. I n a soft, flat tone devoid of emotion she simply says "Ashes to Ashes" The visio n of Larson's mad, raving face before her, the hungry look in his eyes. "We all fall down." Her rational side scolding her for not making sense but the impulsiv e, naive side sing songing the child's rhyme in her head.

Amadeo narrows his age-old eyes at the visions he glimpses from her mind, "Surel y you are not speaking of the plague..." Ring around the rosey, the mark of the deadly pox, a pocket full of posey, said to keep it away. The ashes, and the gra ves, so many fallen in the streets, the smell comes back to him as he hears the children singing. Yes, that dismal little song.

Hope shakes her head slowly and manages to snap back, looking down at her hand a s she open it slowly gazing at the pendant there, charred and marred from the bl ast that killed Larson. "No...I...I think I know who it was on campus killing pe ople." Her tone still flat "He's gone now."

Amadeo nods slowly, "Ah... I see." He stops there though, not knowing really wha t else to say. No words are ever right at such times. He leans back and consider s, "If you would like to go get clean, wash and put on some fresh clothes, that might make you feel better."

Hope shakes her head slowly, no. Her eyes move to meet his for the first time an d the wave rushes over her at last. She embraces him tightly and buries her face in his damp hair, the scent of the rose oil enveloping her. She inhales deeply and wills the tears away. So many have been spilled already that the well is alm ost dry.

Amadeo enfolds her with his arms, firmly but gently... the pulse of her exuisite against him, arousing his hunger which he immediately detests and pushes back d own. She holds him for comforting, and the last thing he wants to do is answer t his with a dark kiss. He rocks her slowly, "I know." he says, for he does know t oo well how it is to watch someone he loves go up in flames.

Hope nuzzles his shoulder as she embraces him. For one so full of life to be sur rounded endlessly by death is a hard burden to bear. She begins to see what Amad eo has been telling her all along; Life is , indeed, short. With this mantra rep eating over and over in her mind she does something so very uncharacterist of he r. She raises her head slightly, looking into Amadeo's eyes and then kisses him, fully and desperately. As if the world may end in the next moment.

Amadeo answers this kiss with one of his own, carefully keeping his teeth from t he soft flesh of her mouth as much as he can. Yes, life is too short, too precio us, and every moment counts.

Hope breaks the kiss, her breath coming in short gasps. Perhaps she should have breathed through her nose. Ah well..she's inexperienced with these things. Embra cing Amadeo once more she says "Thank you. For everything...for ...for being you ." She doesn't want to tell him that when she saw the Vampire Larson charred to ash by Alex she feared for him...or that the image of the starved and hurt Larso n brought ugly thoughts to her mind of what Amadeo could become. Instead she sti lls her words.

Amadeo smiles to Hope, "You are welcome, always here. Everything I have... well, almost everything." He turns away at that thought. "Tell me, was this ending no t one that was nessessary? I saw the boy once, but he was of another line. There was not even a challenge between us. I know nothing of him."

Hope rests her head on his shoulder and stares at the pendant. "I..don't know" s he says softly. She's not sure what to say. Yes, he killed people, but isn't tha t the same as what her beloved does? Would he be offended? "He...there was a gir l..dead beside him. And...some others..they" She bites her bottom lip "He was no thing more than ash. This" she holds the pendant slightly up to show Amadeo bett er "is all that is left"

Amadeo lets his eyes trail over it slowly, taking it in, the relic and its meani ng, "Yes, I see. That, and perhaps his music, which is his legacy to the world."

TO BE CONTINUED....WATCH THIS SPACE!!