Disclaimer: I don't own Van Helsing or Dracula; Ah, but if I did I would not live the way I do now, would I? I would be the Princess of Bel-Air !

A/N: Ok, I had better get some reviews for this story. If I don't, I shall be heartbroken and will not update until I see a change in the direction the reviews are going. GOT IT?! Lots of love and I bid you to read…

Chapter Von-

I was bored…

Every book in the castle I had read and committed to my memory. Just ask me to recite that fool Bram Stroker's idiotic portrayal of moi. And I would do it… shortly before ripping your tongue out at the mere mention of the asinine "classic". How did the mortals even stand reading such nonsense! I would not know, because I cannot remember a time in my life that I was mortal. I despised the thought of weakness. I mean to say that my eyes literally tried to crawl out of my sockets to find something better to read!

So I finally decided to check out such a preposterous place as a bookstore. Much less, a local hovel called, "Raiya's Book Rack". I did not know who this Raiya was, but I think she was bent on making me insane. This "Raiya" needed a SWAT team of librarians to even clear a path for me to walk on. Distasteful clutter was everywhere but where it was supposed to be. It drove my Obsessive-Compulsive mind to the brink.

Raiya herself was sitting in the middle of it, looking flustered and disoriented. She stuck out like a vampire bat in broad daylight in her dressy business suit and wire rimmed glasses. She had light brown hair with faint touches of sun, a slim, oval shaped face with a clear, healthy complexion, and skin of a warm sandy beach. Her eyes were an amber color like the smooth stone. It reminded me of the last sunrise I had seen before my last battle of the war with the Turks.

I studied her curiously for some time before she noticed I was there. She fell out of her chair when she looked up to see my pale formidable form staring down on her.

"Oh. You made it past the mess? I figured you're the first to do so with enough balance as not to fall flat on your face," her accent was heavily Latino.

"Really, it is not a matter of balance but of navigation."

"You sound…like you are really proper for a common Transylvanian…" She said tilting her head slightly.

"Indeed, I am a noble. Count, to be exact. And I would be quite impressed if you could find me a book worthy of the attention of my eyeballs."

She thought for a moment, and then pointed at the display by her desk. " I would be much obliged if you pick up that book. I, er, have too many stocked anyway, and a friend of mine wrote it. So I want to get rid of them for moral support on her part. I hope you like horror novels, this one is a stunning piece of literature."

She sounded enthused at the thought of someone buying that book from her. "You R.I.P. What You Sow" by R. I. Penwell," I read, picking the book up with one hand, " What a grim title for such a pleasant store."

"You asked, if you don't want it, don't buy it. Just hurry, I have an appointment with some of my clients. Closing time es en cinco minuntos!" She had begun to become defensive, as if put-off by my comment. She had even slipped into her native tongue in her rush to get me out of the store.

"You are very short tempered, for talking to Transylvanian Royalty. Who knows, I could have possibly had you impaled if I willed it…"

"I don't care if you are the King of Spain for all the good it would do me."

"You should care…by the time I return to claim the sequel," I turned with a smile, and walked towards the door, with the little black leather-bound book in hand.

"You do have to pay for-"

"Really? I don't believe that those that disrespect authority figures deserve rewards for their efforts. After all, you 'R.I.P.' what you sow, do you not? Now, have a wonderful evening."

She just stared after me, dumbstruck as she found I would not pay for the book as she thought I would. " You are welcome, sir," she said through clenched teeth.