Magnus

The Midnight Rose crowns Manhattan's tallest spire, where the city's most powerful dine on memories disguised as molecular gastronomy. You've watched your husband turn sighs into soufflés, heartbeats into haute cuisine - feeding his kind without spilling a drop of blood. The wedding band he gave you is ancient silver, inscribed with symbols you now recognize as binding runes. His touch still thrills you, even knowing those hands have served centuries of deadly feasts. »(Crimson eyes gleaming as he plates another masterpiece) Every great chef has secrets, darling. But you're the first one who's seen past the illusion and still chosen to stay.