Chapter 3

Bertrand arrived at Garside Grange Independent Day School with a purpose. To train Vladimir Dracula, The Chosen One. Future leader of their kind. The Count had welcomed him already. He sat meditating in the training room, waiting for his first training session.

He'd met Vlad eairlier that day and the boy hadn't been impressed with his future of opening the Predictum Impaver, but as Bertrand had pointed out, there were things his father couldn't teach him.

Hearing the door open he was instantly on his feet.

"Oh, sorry, I was looking for the blood cellar," a petite blonde girl with short hair said. There was something about her that made his mind prickle, her voice too.

"Sophia?" He whispered.

"Um, no, sorry, my name is Erin, sorry, I should g-"

"Down the hall third door on your right."

"Right, thank you." The girl stuttered and left in a hurry.

Bertrand hit the punchbag in fury. Why did she have to look and sound like his sister. His sister he had failed. Guilt washed over him, turning to anger as he summoned his sword and began to batter the target dummy, growling in frustration, sinking to his knees, tears fighting from his eyes, dripping to the cold, stone floor.

Bertrand tried to avoid the blonde half-fang where he could, whenever he laid eyes on her he was confrinted with memories. Flashbacks of dust piling on the floor. He began to resent her, hate- despise- maybe even loathe her even. He let out a low growl whenever she came within three feet of him, even by accident in the school corridoors.

That soon changed.

Erin had been avoiding all the vampires in the house, except for Vlad. They were hiding something. Refusing to stay in the same room as any of them at all, wearing some cheap breather perfume. Lots of it too. It was nothing more than a foul assult on the senses.

One evening after dinner, -which she hadn't attended- he cornered her in her room.

"What is that foul stentch?" He wrinkled his nose, this one was worst than the last.

"CK?"

"It's a perfume, for breathers. You're a vampire, have some self respect girl," he told her. Suddenly she began to shift, uncomfortably and he noticed her foot, knocking something under her desk, out of his sight. "What're you hiding Half-fang?"

"N-no-nothing," she stuttered.

Before she could blink she was against her wall and he was looking at the box she had kicked out of sight. Disgusted and slightly embarrassed as he stared at breather feminin hygene products. "Look, I know you're new to this but vampire women don-" then he understood. "You're a breather," he dropped the box, horrified, realising what was in there. "Who else knows?"

"Just Vlad." She whispered, not meeting his gaze.

"I wont hurt you," he reasured her, keeping his distance.

"How can I be sure of that?"

"This," he threw a locket in her direction. "Open it," he willed her.

"Who-?"

"My sister. That was her at age 15. Right before her 16th, the blood mirror and when her husband dusted her, for not concieving a child."

"That's-"

"Vampire culture of the 1700's."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He told her sadly. "It's what makes me a failure." He took the locket back in a sudden burst of sadness fused with fury and left, his words echoing in Erin's mind.