You awoke all at once, almost everything about the previous night coming back to you.  Turning over, you saw Cosette tumbled beside you, her normally healthy complexion pale as moonlight.  

“Cosette!” you whispered, fear clutching your heart, as your hand slid across bed.

She didn’t respond.

“Cosette!” you whimpered, touching her cheek.  Your stomach flipped. It was cool.

“Cosette!” you exclaimed, dragging her up by the shoulders.  

A snort escaped , and her face wrinkled in dismay.  “Mademoiselle, s’il vous plait! Such a headache I have!”

“Cosette!  Cosette! My own little dear Cosette!  You’re alive!” you cried, holding her to your , and squeezing her tightly.  

“Bien sur, mademoiselle,” she murmured sleepily, with a jaw-cracking yawn.  

“But how?  What happened?  In that state...I was as a wild beast!”

She shook her head, wriggling out of your grasp to to slump back on the bed, slowly but determinedly climbing under your covers.  “Mais oui, mademoiselle,” she agreed listlessly, snuggling under your counterpane, her bronze curls splayed in a riotous tumble over your pillowslip, “but I couldn’t allow you to lose yourself to the dark.  I knew if you killed me, you would never forgive yourself.” Her voice was soft and sleepy, and it was clear that she was fading quickly.

“Mais, Cosette, how did you stop me?”

“Eh bien, I punched you in the face.  Quite hard, you see.”

Silence.

“Ah.”

***

You managed to ready yourself on your own, leaving Cosette in your bed, your breakfast on the table beside her, so that she could eat as soon as she awoke.  Fortunately, you hadn’t been required to take breakfast with your parents in months--ever since Jongin had stopped hindering you in your nightly jaunts. Your parents were ecstatic to see you up and about, looking so healthy, and though they were a bit scandalized that you were allowing Cosette to sleep in your bed, they were so grateful to her for “taking care of you”--(your face froze at the unerring truth of that statement) that they allowed you this peculiar flight of fancy.  And so with a hug, and a smile, you told them that you were going to take a constitutional in the garden, and left them to their morning chatter.

Once there, you sat on the stone bench, and whispered.  “Jonginah! Jonginah!”

He appeared before you, his expression worried.  

“Come sit by me,” you invited.  

He did so, but his face didn’t change.  “What happened last night?”

You smiled, shaking your head.  “Cosette is fine! She’s upstairs snoring away the morning, as we speak!”

“Truly?”

Nodding your head, you slipped a bit closer to him.  

“But how?”

You waved a hand, then unthinkingly patted your jaw.  “She’s a lot hardier than one would expect.”

He smiled then, but his eyes were sad, and he looked away.  “That’s wonderful.”

You leaned even closer.  “Jonginah…”

He turned to you then, registering your proximity.  His pupils dilated, and his voice deepened. “Yes?”

“I saw my arrière grand-mère last night!”

He was speechless.

You nodded, leaning just a bit closer.  “Jonginah...do you know what she told me?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to your mouth.  “I...couldn’t imagine.”

“You’re alive!”

Jongin didn’t react.  

Tilting your head, you considered him in confusion.  “Did you hear what I said?”

He finally brought his eyes back up to yours.  “I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I was...distracted.  Please, go on.”

Beaming, you repeated the glorious phrase that had been burning through your mind all morning.  “I said...you’re alive!”

He froze.  “I’m...sorry?”

“You’re alive, mon amoureux.  Somewhere. We just have to find where.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t...understand…”

“Well, according to Grandmere Genevieve, the only way I could see you like this is if you were still alive.  She says that ghosts do not walk the earth. A sire can cause the spirit of his ward’s first victim to wander, but only if he keeps the victim alive!”

“But...how?”

“You...don’t really want to know that part…”

“I most certainly do!  I insist!”

You grimaced.  “Well...to create a...revenant, the victim must be brought to the brink of death.  Then, instead of being allowed to die, the sire just…” you coughed delicately, a blush suffusing your cheeks.

“Just what, mademoiselle?”

“Gives you a drop of his blood, every day.  Just enough to keep you alive, but not enough to either heal you--if you have enough blood of your own--or turn you--if you don’t.”

“I’m alive.”

“You’re alive, ma cherie!”

“I’m alive?!”  His eyes filled with tears.  

Your voice gentled.  “You...are...alive! Gloriously, wholly, completely alive!”

“What happens when you find me?”

You sat back, and swallowed.  “I just have to...incapacitate Boudreaux, and...make you swallow his blood until your body takes over, and you drink the rest.”

“And will I be truly alive, then?”

You looked away.  “Honnêtement, mon coeur, it all depends on how far along your body has healed.  If you have enough blood in your body, then you will be as ever you were. If you don’t…”

“If I don’t?”

Swallowing, you turned away from him completely.  “If you don’t...you will become as I am.”

He was quiet.  Then he stood abruptly.  “I need time to think about this.”

Nodding silently, you bowed your head.  “Jonginah...were you...being quite honest when you...when yo