Henry Fitzroy felt the jerk of consciousness as his vampiric sleep ended for the day. His eyes opened and sought the clock by his bedside in confusion; it felt far too early still. Sure enough, the clock read 2 o'clock in the afternoon. With a frown and a shrug he sprang lithely from his bed, landing gracefully as ever on the balls of his feet.

His head snapped to the side and he sniffed the air. With a deepened frown he made his way into the living room. An instantaneous scan of the room drew his eyes to its centre. A slight form was huddled in a pool of synthetic light falling from a lamp. The body belonged to a slender and petite and very naked woman whose back was to him. She rested hunched on her knees with her back arched sharply, her head touched against the ground in front of her and her palms were splayed either side of her head to steady her. Her black hair spanned in long ebony waves down her back and all around her face. Her ivory skin glowed smooth and perfect under the light.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my home?" Henry demanded, hoping to dear God that this wasn't another dream and that she wasn't another Incan Sorcerer.

The girl's head flipped up and she glanced over her shoulder, with the hair moved aside he could now clearly see the elegant curve of her neck. His eyes lingered there for a millisecond before moving upwards to her face. Her eyes were widening dramatically, "Turn around! You can't look at me, sir!"

Henry turned his back to her with a smirk, he remembered the face he'd had a glance of and digested it now from memory. It was a childish and angelic one, plump lips and wide blue-grey eyes, straight little nose. She was the type of classic beauty that would always be worshipped, always be yearned for, and always be pined after.

The smirk slipped from his face in surprise when he felt an arm snake around his chest as he was pulled flush against the girl's body. He could feel the softness of her breasts and the warmth of her skin, as well as smell her sweetness but these intoxicating sensations were overridden by the feeling of the blade of his own sword, digging ever so slightly into the skin of his neck. "What do you want with me vampire? Where have you taken me?" hissed the voice, which had sounded so melodic and soft moments before, right against his ear.

"Nothing! I want and have done nothing! You are the one intruding in my home!" Henry retorted incredulously as he tried to struggle from her grasp but she could not be budged. Her strength shocked him and he smelled her once again. "A slayer!" he spat, his vampiric visage coming to the fore.

"That's right, bloodsucker, and…" she trailed off in confusion and her grip slackened imperceptibly, but enough that Henry managed to shrug her off. The motion propelled her to the floor and the sword was knocked from her hands.

Henry was upon her in a second and pinned her body to the ground with his own, he gripped both her wrists in one hand and held them above her head. She thrashed about instinctively at the binds his body formed. His other hand reached to her stomach, where he pushed her torso tight against the ground so that she could not move about.

She looked up at him in desperation and he couldn't help but grin with satisfaction, the tables were well and truly turned. "Your aura is not evil, I feel it now, you do not want to harm me," she said with an assured voice that was completely at odds with her worried eyes.

"You're right; I don't want to hurt you. So, can we talk rationally now?" Henry asked.

"Yes," she acquiesced with a sheepish nod.

Henry released her and stood up; he offered her his hand and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you," she said with all the dignity she could muster in her state of undress.

Henry could not help but lavish her body with his eyes, her hair hung down obscuring the view of her breasts but her flat stomach and long, willowy limbs were still visible. He could hear the blood course to her face and looked up to see the embarrassment staining her cheeks.

"First, I should perhaps get some clothes for you…" Henry murmured distractedly. The girl visibly relaxed with relief.

"Yes, please, that would be wonderful."

Henry motioned for her to follow him and walked ahead to his bedroom. He rifled through his closet and pulled out a dressing gown, when he turned he saw that she was still standing in the doorway of the room. "You can come in" he told her.

Her expression changed from cautious to appalled, "I couldn't possibly enter a gentleman's bedroom!"

Henry looked at her and a few things began to click into place, the moral code she seemed to hold, her speech, the stance she held herself in (not just that of a warrior but of a lady also). Her breeding all screamed old English nobility of years long passed.

"What year is it?" he asked, approaching her.

"1883."

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Who is this mysterious girl? How did she get there? Who knows? Read on to find out and pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease review!