It was cold that morning. The wind howled around her black, lace dress. Her thin, pale arms were wrapped around her torso like steel. Her pale pink lips were set in a flat, ominous line. Her ebony hair whipped around her face, though she made no movement to push it away. Fiora looked all vampire in her black dress and black combat boots. Her pale skin, only flecked with pink flesh-colored scars, was soft and tight around her knuckles. Her hands were clenched into fists. Fiora stared at the tombstone in front of her. His name was carved into the stone and every letter she read drew silver tears from bright blue eyes. Her fingers immediately ran over the soft, leather knife sheath on her hip. She would get her revenge. Not only for her, but for Eric as well. They had killed Eric. and, they had killed Christopher Grey. Her son.