- I -

"And you're certain that you two can handle this without me?"

Sylvia sat behind the great mahogany desk in the manor's study, several old, worn books sprawled out in front of her. For hours she had been hunched over the dusty tomes searching for that one clue that would finally help her family kill Dracula. Now she sat back in her chair staring at her brother Velkan over the desk, her reading having been momentarily disrupted. A pounding ache had been forming behind her eyes for hours now, and her brother's stubborn obstinacy finally pushed the ache into a full blown headache. She rubbed at her forehead with cold, numbing fingers to try easing the pain.

Oblivious to her troubles, Velkan sighed, pushing himself up from the chair he'd been leaning against. "How many times have we hunted werewolves, Sylvia?" He answered his own question. "A countless number. And never have any of us gotten seriously injured!"

"That may be true," she countered tiredly, standing and coming out from behind the desk, "but the last time we went hunting we almost lost Anna. She would have been killed had I not been there in time to distract the werewolf, and you know it."

Sylvia stood in front of Velkan and looked up at him, arms crossed. Her voice was soft when she said, "You and I both know it's unlikely Father will ever return despite Anna's insisting otherwise. He's been gone for a year already with no word from him or his men." She had to pause to take in a shaky breath before she could continue with, "I couldn't stand to lose you or Anna now, not when we are the only family we have left."

Velkan's hard expression softened as he took her into his arms, holding her to his chest in a strong hug. Sylvia inhaled, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent, tears prickling against her eyelids. She squeezed tightly, thinking about the father she would never again hold like this.

After a moment Velkan pulled back, holding Sylvia an arm's length away from him.

"I promise you that Anna and I will take every precaution," he told her seriously, eyes never breaking contact. "We're taking twice as many men as we usually do, and I've got half a dozen silver bullets." He tapped the butt of the gun hanging at his waist. "Don't worry. I know it's hard, but you know as well as I we can't put this off just because you're ill."

"I know," she replied wearily. "I'll try."

"Good." He placed a kiss on her forehead and pulled away grinning, turning to look at Anna as she stalked into the room.

"Velkan, the men are already assembled in the square. Are you ready?" she asked impatiently.

Sylvia thought that it was perhaps because she was younger, but Anna always seemed restless, especially when it came to hunting the dark creatures that plagued their lands. In appearances the sisters were similar enough to pass as twins, but their personalities were as different as night and day. Where Anna was quick to react, Sylvia weighed her options thoroughly before acting. Where Anna was hotheaded, Sylvia was calm. The knowledge of her sister's impetuous nature did nothing to ease the worry she felt over her two siblings leaving on a hunt without her.

"Of course," Velkan answered. "I was only reassuring Sylvia that I would keep a close watch on you," he teased.

"Hmph." Anna snorted, pushing past him to get to Sylvia. "I didn't see you there behind this big oaf," she said, hugging her. "Have you been eating? You look skinnier."

"Of course I have. Velkan's just been getting fat," she teased. "Makes me look tinier by comparison."

"I heard that," he complained from behind them.

"And?" Anna finally retorted, pulling away from the hug. She put her hands on her hips and made a point of looking Velkan up and down. "You're definitely right, Syl. Look at that!" Anna darted forward and pinched his cheeks between her gloved fingers. Velkan grumbled and lightly smacked her hands away, but Sylvia could see the smile lurking in the corners of his mouth.

"What did I do to deserve such cruel sisters?" he groused.

"Perhaps it was something you did in a past life," Sylvia told him, giving them both gentle nudges towards the door. "As much as I would enjoy staying here all day with you two, if you insist on hunting today without me, I think it would be best if you left now. You don't know how long the wolf will keep you waiting, and you can't be caught out in the woods when night falls."

Anna nodded, brown curls bouncing. "Sylvia's right, Velkan, we've delayed long enough." Anna took him by the hand and yanked him through the doors forcefully while Sylvia followed sedately, arms crossed over her chest.

She stopped at the door and watched them as they disappeared down the hall, Velkan yelling reminders back at her. "Remember to eat dinner! And don't stare at those old books all day or you'll never get better!"

Sylvia laughed a little. One would think he was her father rather than her brother with the way he treated her sometimes, but she knew he meant well. While they were growing up, their parents had told Sylvia that because she was older she had to take care of Anna; Sylvia imagined they said much the same to Velkan about both herself and Anna. She knew he probably felt pressured now more than ever before with the disappearance of their father.

The sound of the manor door's slamming shut echoed throughout the great hall, and Sylvia knew that her siblings had gone. Left alone to her studies once again, she walked back to the desk, sat down, and continued reading.

Her headache renewed itself as soon as she started again, but she forced herself to continue. There was no possibility that their ancestors hadn't left a clue about how to defeat Dracula – it was simply a matter of finding it. Until she did, she couldn't let herself rest no matter how terrible she may have felt. Every night Dracula lived was another night in which her ancestors languished in purgatory, in which his dark children and foul servants terrorized the innocent.

Failure was not an option.


The villagers' moans and wails of mourning seemed to come from high above Sylvia's dark head. Her hand, clasped with Anna's smaller one, was cold and sweaty but she held tight; Velkan stood at Anna's other side. Their father stood solemn behind them, a big hand gently squeezing Sylvia and Velkan by the shoulder, dropping back to his side before they started moving.

Where's Mama?

Everyone, even the poorest of villagers, was dressed in their best white and red clothing, neatly ironed and arranged. But the women were all crying and sobbing loudly, and even the men looked sadder than Sylvia could ever remember seeing them. Several men stood in front of them holding up a big wooden box, which Sylvia and her family followed directly. It looked very big from where she was standing, and it seemed to loom above her. She thought it must have been very heavy.

Where's Mama?

As they were walking on the oft-used path to the cemetery, Sylvia's foot caught on a stray rock and she nearly fell, but her father's big hands caught her and set her to rights. He crouched down and peered into her face.

"Okay, little fox?"

They kept walking, past the many graves both new and old, until they stood before a rectangular pit in the ground. A large pile of dirt sat to the side of the hole, higher than Sylvia was tall. The village priest began speaking, but Sylvia didn't understand much of what he said – he spoke in Latin.

The men who had been carrying the box lowered it into the hole, and the villagers all gathered around it, still crying. A pale man with white hair now stood next to the pile of dirt, a shovel in hand.

Where's Mama?

Their father gently guided them forward to the edge of the hole to look down at the box. Sylvia noticed that their father, the bravest person she knew, had tears in his eyes.

"Estera," he murmured. "Estera, I will kill him for this. I promise you."

"Papa," Anna said, tugging out of Sylvia and Velkan's hands to grab onto their father's coat. She looked up at him. "Papa, why are you talking to the box? Mama'a not in there. Where's Mama?"

Where's Mama?

Sylvia woke with a violent start, grabbing the desk in front of her to keep the chair from tipping back. Her breath heaved like she had just been running, and her heart surged in her chest, thumping against her rib cage in an adrenaline-rich dance. She was sweaty, clothes sticking to her body, and her neck ached from sleeping on it strangely. Sylvia slid a hand across her face, massaging the sore spot where a corner of a book had imprinted on her cheek, and sighed.

It was the fifth time in as many days that she had awoken from a nightmare about their mother's death. She had stopped having the nightmares a few months after her death, but the funeral usually showed up in her dreams when she felt anxious or worried. Still, she never used to get them more than once or twice a year, and lately she'd been having them every time she slept without fail. Sylvia was not superstitious, but the frequency of the dreams left her unsettled.

She sighed once more and stood from the chair, stretching, trying to work out all the kinks left in her body from sleeping slumped over at the desk. She picked up her silver pocket watch to check the time – trying to tell the time by sunlight in her country was unreliable at best with all the clouds – and realized that Velkan and Anna should have returned already.

Feeling a stab of panic, Sylvia turned to grab jacket from the back of the chair, nearly screaming when she saw Anna sitting on the sofa by the fire. She sighed in relief, wondering how long she had been there. And where was Velkan?

"Anna?"

"Were you having the nightmare again?" she asked softly, staring into her lap. Sylvia nodded slowly, noticing the dried mud on her boots and the smudges of dirt on her face and clothes. Anna continued, "I thought so. You looked sad while you slept."

Sylvia was getting the sense that something had gone terribly wrong. She walked over to her sister and knelt by her feet. Anna still wouldn't look at her.

"Anna," she asked evenly, "where is Velkan?"

It took a long moment for her to answer.

"Gone."

Sylvia's heart seemed to fall into her stomach. Gone?

"Tell me what happened," she demanded.

Anna looked at her then, brown eyes swimming with painful tears. "The plan went wrong," she whispered. "You remember the cage we told you about? The lever didn't work. Velkan was stuck above the cage and- and he dropped his gun." The speed of her words picked up as she went along, growing more and more distraught with every word. "I tried to get it to him in time but the ropes holding the cage broke, and the werewolf escaped." She closed her eyes tightly, lips pressed thinly together as the tears streamed steadily down her cheeks. "It chased me out to the cliff over the river and I... I thought it had me." She opened her eyes and grasped Sylvia's hand tightly. "But Velkan pushed me out of the way just as the beast jumped-" She cut herself off with a sob. "My God, Syl, it was my fault!"

"No, Anna." Sylvia immediately wrapped her arms around her younger sister, falling heavily on the sofa beside her. "It wasn't your fault," she murmured into her hair. Anna's hot breath and salty tears stained her shirt. "It was never your fault." Another sob wrenched itself from Anna's chest and she held tighter to her sister.

Sylvia had gone numb. Her eyes were hot and itchy, and despite Anna's free flowing tears, Sylvia's simply wouldn't come. She knew the news hadn't quite sunk in yet. Later, she thought, it would hit her and she would cry – but for now it was enough that she should comfort Anna. Anna cried for a long while, but after she had tired herself out and the sobs quietened, Sylvia tentatively broached the topic of what they should do next.

"There's nothing else we can do right now," Sylvia pointed out gently. "I wish the men could continue searching the gorge, but it would be dangerous, especially with nightfall on its way."

"I know," Anna sighed. She hiccuped and continued to wipe at her cheeks with a handkerchief. "But tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow we'll join them down there ourselves," she said firmly. She looked at the angry red skin around Anna's eyes and nose from the extended crying, and hugged her again, staring into the fire behind her.

This was the heartache that had plagued their family, and the families of the villagers, for centuries. It never became any easier, no matter how many times one said goodbye to a loved one - each death was a fresh wound lashed into the heart. No one should have to endure this much death.

Sylvia pulled away and forced a small smile on her face.

"How about we call the maids and have them prepare some baths, hm? I think a hot soak before bed is exactly what we need. Tomorrow we'll decide what to do."

Hesitantly, Anna smiled back. It was small and wobbly, but she managed it. "That sounds good," she agreed. "Tomorrow."


Later that evening as she soaked in the hot water of her bath, Sylvia cried.

She cried when she thought about Anna's pain and guilt at having witnessed their older brother's death. She thought about the promise Velkan had made to her – the one he had broken. She thought about all of the good memories they'd made in the past years, despite the constant tragedies that hit their family. She thought about her irrational anger at both Anna and Velkan for his death, her frustration about her inability to act. Her inability to save him. It wasn't any of their faults for this. No, Sylvia knew exactly who to blame for Velkan's death.

Dracula had plagued the Valerious family for centuries, causing countless generations to bear witness to the tragic deaths of their relatives, one after the other until they themselves were taken. It was that... that demon's fault that she and Anna were orphans. It was his fault that they had no one in the world they could turn to but each other. It was his fault that Velkan was killed by a werewolf, no doubt sent to the village with that specific task. The Bible taught forgiveness, and her father had always taught his children to be merciful in ruling their lands – but Dracula's actions fell well outside the scope of what could be forgiven. Sylvia hated the Count with a passion that could rival nothing else in this world, and she would see him destroyed if it was the last thing she ever did. She would destroy him just as he had destroyed her life.

The night of Velkan's death, and for the following three nights, Sylvia and Anna slept together in Velkan's bed. Sylvia had discovered Anna there after she herself had the thought to sleep in his room, comforted by the familiar smell of her brother.

Neither of the sisters said a word to the other, but Sylvia crawled under the covers and fell asleep with the warmth of her sister next to her, and the scent of her brother in the air. Perhaps if either sister had a beau they'd each have spent their nights holding them close, but there were no men their age in the village, nor had there been for ten long years.

When Sylvia had been a girl of thirteen and Anna was just eleven, there was a slew of young boys turning up with the puncture marks of the vampires in their necks. The vampires never took young children before, seemingly more partial to those in their thirties or forties, and the number of boys being killed was much more than the usual one or two a month. In an effort to spare the boys who were still alive, their father found families in the surrounding villages willing to take them in. Once out of Vaseria, the boys ceased to turn up dead, and were evidently free from further harm.

Their father, Boris, gathered that the killings had been the work of Dracula's brides, Marishka, Verona, and Aleera. He assumed they must have developed some sort of predilection for the blood of young males; that they did not follow the boys after they left Vaseria was only testament to their indolent, volatile natures.

With all of the young men gone from the town there were no suitors left for Sylvia or Anna when they came to an age to begin thinking of such things. While the pair had discussed such matters in the past, they never spent much time lingering over their lost opportunities; after all, what was a beau but another loved one for the vampires to take away?

Even though Sylvia and Anna had agreed to formulate a plan the day after Velkan's death, when their search of the river came up dry, they simply fell back into their lives as usual. Sylvia informed the town of their brother's death, and a marker was erected in the graveyard on the plot next to their mother's. After that was done, what else was there to do but to go forward their their family's mission? It was more imperative than ever that Dracula be stopped. With only two Valerious left, the threat of their family's eternity in purgatory loomed ever darker above their heads. Sylvia and Anna went about their lives as usual, but perhaps with more fervor; they patrolled, took council from the citizens, organized further hunts, and continued to research the secret to Dracula's downfall.

The only significant change to their routine was filling in the gaping hole where Velkan used to be.

The second of October was a Sunday, the sisters' first without Velkan. Instead of going to the small chapel within the manor, Sylvia and Anna woke early to join in the mass in the village church.

Sylvia thought that perhaps in time they would be able to brave their chapel again, to confront memories of the three siblings praying together, but for the time being they were content to worship within the embrace of their people.

The priest ended the sermon some time before noon, and the villagers filed out of the church. Some joked and talked with each other, but a majority of them were stony-faced and solemn. Their prince had just died, and it may have begun to seem as though the vampires would finally win; there wasn't much to be happy about. Sylvia and Anna were the last to leave the church and on their way out the priest, Father Damek, addressed them.

"I wanted to thank you for joining us in the church today, Daughters. I have prayed for your brother's soul every day since his passing, but it does the people good to see you both down here."

Sylvia nodded to the kind old man, and Anna replied, "Of course, Father, and we thank you for your prayers."

Father Damek knew of the Valerious family's pledge to destroy Dracula, and he knew that every death of a family member brought them closer to failing; while the villagers only knew that they quested to destroy the foul creature, they didn't know what was at stake. Father Damek was the only one who understood the true gravity of their mission.

"I know you are quite busy, but if I may, I would like to pray over you before you go," he said, kind eyes moving from one sister to the other.

"Thank you, Father." Sylvia smiled kindly and bowed her head as the old man blessed them. A few moments later he finished the Latin prayer and returned to his chapel. Sylvia followed Anna's quick strides into the middle of the square, noticing the tension in the bodies of her people. Something was amiss. Instead of returning to their daily activities as they usually did, the villagers were congregating around the well, many of them holding farm equipment like weapons.

Sylvia glanced at Anna who nodded, confirming her suspicions. There was a stranger in their midst.

Without a word Anna strode off in the direction of the well. With that in mind, Sylvia wove her way through the crowd to a spot opposite Anna's, until she stumbled upon the source of discontent.

The strangers were two men, one very tall, and the other of average height. While the former was dressed impressively in blackened leathers, the latter wore the rough-spun wool of a man of the cloth. They both wore coverings over their heads, but Sylvia could easily see the perplexed look of fear on the blond monk's face. The tall one, a brunet, held himself so that the shadow of his hat obscured his features, but she knew she wasn't imagining the outline of pistols beneath his long coat. A travel bag lay at his feet, from which she could see a crossbow sticking out. Yes, she decided, of the two, he was definitely the more threatening. What was a man like this doing in Vaseria?

"Curious," Sylvia murmured from her place in the crowd.

The taller man's head shot to turn in her direction as though to address her comment, but before he could decide to say anything, Anna spoke from behind him.

"Turn around."

She stood, hands on her hips and feet spread apart atop the lip of the well. Sylvia fought the urge to pull her down to safer ground. With Anna's impatience came a certain level of carelessness that Sylvia was sadly certain would get her killed someday.

While she watched Anna anxiously, the two men did as they were told; the blond turning so fast she imagined he might have fallen had he not been so tense. The brunet was more cautious, turning slowly at his own leisure. Sylvia noted that the taller man shot another look at her after he had seen Anna. She wondered if he had noticed their resemblance, and if he had, wondered what that might mean. This man carried a multitude of weapons, and clearly had practice in remaining calm even during stressful situations. Who was he?

"Gentleman," Anna addressed them, "prepare to be disarmed."

Good, Sylvia thought. She had noticed the pistols as well.

Calmly, the brunet replied, "I don't think so."

Sylvia raised her eyebrows at that. No? Originally she'd had no intention of addressing the two strangers at all, but now she was truly curious. With more question in her voice than anger, she slipped out from the crowd and asked, "You fail to obey our laws?"

"The laws of men," he said, moving to keep both Anna and Sylvia in his field of vision, "mean little to me."

Anna scoffed. "Kill them," she ordered.

Sylvia knew she did not actually expect the villagers to kill the men. Rather, she expected the two to be persuaded to tell her why they were here. It was a bluff, but it usually worked. For all his apparent calm, this man was no different from the others they'd used the trick on in the past.

"I'm here to help," he offered.

Automatically going on the defensive, Anna spat, "We don't need any help."

"Oh really?"

She saw them at the same time he did. While Sylvia darted forward to drag Anna down out of harm's way, the man picked up his crossbow and immediately began shooting when she was clear of the danger. Anna looked about ready to spit fire, but stilled her tongue when she noticed the screeches of the brides. Sylvia exchanged a look with Anna. The brides never attacked during daylight – what was going on? But there was no time to think about that now.

"Everybody inside!" Anna screamed.

As Anna ducked away to find a bigger weapon, Sylvia watched as Verona, the oldest of Dracula's wives flew up into the air with a great pump of her bat-like wings. Her face was contorted in a snarl, and with a fierce hissing, she plucked the metal bolts from her body. Behind her, another of Dracula's brides, Marishka, flew into view. Sylvia didn't see the third and youngest bride, Aleera, but she knew it was only a matter of time until she made herself known. Where one bride went, the others were sure to follow. The stranger kept his crossbow up, waiting for the two to make a move.

"Marishka," Verona ordered, "kill the stranger."

Marishka's fanged grin widened grotesquely as she stared at the man. "Love to!" she laughed.

Just as Sylvia suspected, Aleera showed up while she was busy keeping an eye on Verona and Marishka. She heard the vampire coming a split second before she reached her, but it was too late to dodge out of the way. She had a glimpse of blue-grey skin, red curls, and bright purple eyes before she was punched square in the cheek. She went down until Aleera grabbed her by the leg with her clawed feet, talons digging into the flesh of her calf, and began to fly off with her.

Sylvia cursed, head dizzy. It took her an uncomfortably long time to reorient herself, but she managed to unsheathe a dagger and, twisting herself up to reach it, slash at Aleera's ankle. The vampire's shrieks of pain accompanied an immediate sense of falling, and before she knew it, Sylvia was back on the ground with a hard thump.

She gasped, struggling for the breath that had been knocked out of her. Several of the townspeople jumped or tripped over her fallen body in their haste to get inside away from the brides. For several long moments all Sylvia could do was listen to the screams, cackles, and twang of the crossbow. When she finally recovered, Anna was nowhere to be seen, and the two strangers were fighting off Marishka alone. Well, the taller man was attempting to fight her off – the monk seemed terribly out of place. But where were Anna and the other brides?

Sylvia picked herself up out of the dirt just as Marishka threw the man to the ground once again, flying up over the buildings cackling wildly; she always had been the cruelest of the brides. But she was so giddy, so stupid with glee of toying with the man, that she didn't realize she had thrown him just before his fallen crossbow – and there, across the square, was the basin of holy water sitting just outside the church.

Marishka screamed when she realized what she had done, but it was far too late, and by the time she was nearly in reach of the stranger, he was firing at her with deadly aim. As soon as the bolts entered her body, one perfectly through her undead heart, she screeched and writhed. A few desperate attempts to keep herself in the air ended with her slamming into the roof of a tower; in mere seconds the darts had done their work, and with one last piercing scream, Marishka was nothing more than a smudge of ash on the shingles. The air, after ringing with her ungodly shrieking, was oddly quiet.

The loaded silence was torn asunder less than three seconds later. Verona and Aleera shot through the roof of another building, screaming lamentations for their lost sister. They flew away, over the rivers and mountains, probably headed for Dracula's hidden lair. From the same building, Anna stumbled down the steps into the square, looking slightly shaken. The man in monk's robes walked towards his companions as he stiffly left his shooting stance. Sylvia looked to Anna, who simply shrugged.

At a loss, Sylvia asked, "Does anyone care for a stiff drink?"


An hour later, the four stood in the armory of the family manor. Evening came early during Romanian winters, and while the sun had not entirely set yet, it was low lying in the sky, and the servants had lit the candles and braziers before they arrived. Shadows danced across the walls, flames flickering in a slight draft.

Van Helsing, as he had introduced himself, had just finished telling Sylvia and Anna about who he was and why he was in Vaseria. He also explained Carl's role in the Vatican's plans, introducing him as a genius inventor. Sylvia thought his supposed intellect certainly explained his presence here when he seemed wholly incapable of fighting.

Anna, however, was less accepting of the two men's presence.

"I still say we don't need any help from you," Anna sniffed. Her arms were crossed over her chest defensively, and her hip was cocked out to the side as she glared at him. "Our family has been fighting Dracula for generations."

"And you haven't come any closer to killing him," Van Helsing replied promptly. "And that is exactly why you need our aid. The Vatican wants this Dracula business to be finished, and I'm going to help you do it."

"Anna, he does have a point," Sylvia told her gently. The older Valerious felt somewhat guilty siding with this Van Helsing when her sister so obviously disliked him, but his words held wisdom in them. If he was as good as he said, then they could certainly use his assistance... especially with Velkan now gone.

As Sylvia knew she would, Anna switched her glare's focus to her sister. She thew up her arms, growling. "Fine! But I am not happy about this arrangement," she said, looking at Van Helsing, "and I want you to know that. Now, I am going hunting." She turned away from them then, sorting through a nearby weapon casement for whatever it was she was looking for.

Sylvia did not have to look outside to know that while they'd been talking the sun had set. "Sister, you know you can't go hunting after dusk," she pointed out plainly, cutting off whatever Van Helsing had opened his mouth to say. He would only make her angrier. "What would Father say?"

Anna rounded on her sister with a look she'd never seen in her eyes before, shouting, "He wouldn't say anything because he's dead! Father is dead and he is not coming back!" She planted a hand on Sylvia's chest and shoved so hard that she had to take a step back or risk falling. "And you are not Mama, so stop trying to order me about," she snarled, now in Romanian. "Mama is dead, Father is dead, and now Velkan is, too. And now you're siding with some stranger against your own blood, the only kin you have left? What would Father say to that, Sylvia?"

Sylvia stood stunned for a moment, temporarily frozen by her sister's outburst, before she unstuck her tongue. "He would say I was doing the right thing," she replied, also in Romanian, "the smart thing, because I wasn't going to let you go get yourself killed!"

She only realized what had happened after she felt the stinging pain of Anna's slap to her face. This time both sisters froze for a moment, painfully aware of the audience they had. For an awkward moment both Anna and Sylvia stared at each other before Anna turned abruptly on her feel and walked down the hall.

Van Helsing rushed past Sylvia with a sympathetic glance before hurrying after Anna, calling, "Anna! Wait!"

Only Carl and Sylvia remained in the room now, and after a moment of silence he asked, "May I?" gesturing to Sylvia's cheek. Dumbly, she nodded, and sank into a nearby chair. "You're bleeding," he said by way of explanation, soft scholar's fingers turning her chin up so he could see the damage.

"Oh. Anna's nails," Sylvia realized.

She waited patiently while he produced an aid pack from his robes, and sat quietly while he cleaned and dressed the scratches. As Carl was finishing up, Van Helsing returned, carrying Anna in his arms.

Sylvia knew her surprise and suspicion showed on her face. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. Shifting her in his grasp, all he asked was, "Is there a couch I can lay her on? She's getting heavy."

Three hours later Sylvia found herself in the study with Carl. She glanced up from the book she was reading through and sighed. She could feel a headache developing as they always did when she read for too long. Carl was still diligently studying one of the various texts on the Valerious family; he hadn't moved once but to turn the pages of the book. Though impressed by his dedication, Sylvia was getting restless and hungry. With a word to Carl, she set out to the kitchens to find something to curb her hunger until supper.

On her way down to the first floor of the manor she passed by the armory, and the couch Van Helsing had laid Anna on. It turned out he sprayed her with some sort of substance that induced sleep for a few hours, effectively halting her plans to go out hunting in their tracks. Sylvia was grateful to the man, as she knew she would have had quite a time of it herself without the aid of drugs. She also thought Anna had wholly deserved the deception for her stubbornness. Sylvia had instructed Van Helsing to simply lay her out on the couch, although she had covered her with a blanket before leaving for the study. Now though, the couch was empty, and Anna was nowhere to be seen.

Cursing, Sylvia grabbed a candelabrum from a nearby table and set off to search for her. The closest and most logical place to begin looking was the armory. If she didn't find Anna there, she would search the levels below this one, imagining that Anna would be stubborn enough to try and continue through with her original plan.

As she walked through the armory Sylvia didn't notice anything out of place, save for the distinct smell of wet dog. There were also a few splatters of water on the floor, presumably from the storm currently raging outside.

Sylvia frowned. Her family never kept dogs, but some of the villagers did. Had one of them somehow gotten in? Or was she mistaking the smell for something else, and the water was just from a broken window? Whatever the cause, she continued on until she heard a sharp intake of breath around the corner of a casement. Holding the light out in front of her, Sylvia turned the corner cautiously, only to find Anna staring at something to her left.

"I was worried," she began, but Anna cut her off.

"Velkan," she breathed, still staring to the left. Sylvia pivoted on her heel and peered into the corner of the room where Velkan stood, just outside the range of candlelight.


AN: I've been working on the ending to this story for many months, but I simply can't get it right. I've decided a change is in order, and as such, I'm revamping the entirety of this story and renaming it. I thank those who have been waiting for the long overdue update to this story, and I hope you'll stick around for the rewrite!