Haha, suspense.

The most wonderful tool I have ever used as an author.

Enjoy.

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Chapter 7: Cold Magic

Sareesa woke slowly, the dim light of twilight creeping across the crimson silk covered bed she slept on. She groaned as the light filtered through the surrounding veils of the bed's canopy, tingling her skin, but not burning. She waited as the sun dwindled, and finally dropped its head, surrendering to the moon's dominance in the night sky.

She rolled over, clutching the silk sheets wrapped around her pale form.

Last night was wonderful...

But Valdisdan had disappeared. She could faintly remember him saying something about an errand he had to run- but her head gave a slow pound, reminding her that she hadn't fed in quite a few days.

She sighed softly, easing herself from the cool silk, taking part of it with her as she stumbled across the threshold.

She found the bathroom with little trouble, and sank into a hot bath moments later.

But her mind refused to shut down. Something was bothering her. Why Valdisdan had not shown her anything in the castle, apart from this room and the outside gazebo.

She felt sure he was hiding something. But she had no idea why he felt the need to. She trusted him.

Perhaps too much, she realized. She barely knew him, but felt as though they had met long ago, as if she had lived in this ocean side castle forever.

She groaned, tilting her head back into the water, red-blond hair curling around her slender neck and shoulders.

Life had been so simple in Castle Dracula. Even if she was ignored.

Dracula...

The name coiled around her mind, almost as if he was there again, touching her soul with his fiery gaze, sapphire eyes turning black as he called out her name.

Her eyes shut, and she surrendered to the dream.

Flying through the clouds.

Lightning danced around his wings, heat snapping around him as he searched for her.

She could feel the panic in him, the nervous anticipation, the longing...

What was he looking for?

She knew within herself that she recognized this creature, this vampire.

The Count whirled through the thunderhead, wings close as he swerved to avoid the rapid slashes of light dancing around him.

He called out her name again, agony within it.

Then suddenly, he swerved, clutching his stomach.

She felt a corresponding pang, a terrible wrench, within her.

"HARTANA!" He screamed, bloody tears making deep tracks down his pale face, eyes pure black, gleaming in hatred and sorrow.

Another slash of pain came within them both, and this time she cried out, making him turn abruptly at the sound of her voice, resonating in his mind.

"Franshka..."

They were gone.

Both of them. Her sisters. Daughters, even.

Though she may have hated them for their closeness to their master, she had always truly loved them.

Now they were gone, torn apart from the world.

Gone, in an instant.

"What is happening?" Neither of them could tell who uttered those words, he simply relished in her presence, taking comfort in her soul's presence within him.

Then his face slowly turned, his slim lips curving upwards as his eyes opened, triumph within them.

"I know where you are now... Sareesa."

She woke, choking on water as she screamed her defiance, fear emanating from every pore on her body.

He knew where she was.

Terror filled her, bile rising in her throat as she slid from the tub, snagging a fluffy towel on her way to the floor.

"Valdisdan... where are you?"

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The vampire licked his long, silver sword, relishing in the burning on his tongue as he swiped the blood off of the blade.

Piles of ashes, scattering in the wind, were all that remained of the first bloodlines.

The brides.

It had been easy, so easy, to return the way he had.

He had taken his captive willingly, slowly in flight to the castle, biding his time.

The count couldn't find her. He had made sure of that. Her soul, her scent, every imprint she had left on this earth had disappeared, as surely as if she had never existed.

He was far away, searching for her throughout Romania. Leaving his castle, his territory unguarded.

It had been too easy, killing the whores who remained, draped silently in sleep, waking only to scream in terror as a flash of silver and red streaked toward them, then faded forever.

The name that had escaped from the bride who had fought, the one who had given him a wonderfully deep gash, running from the side of his neck to his right hip, crossing his older scars, fading away to join them in his victory.

She had spoken her name, Sareesa's.

Her sister, she had called her.

Scornfully, he had whispered poisonous words to her as she began to turn to ash, whispering that Sareesa had left, uncaring what happened to her and the other girl. She had sent him, her protector, her love, to carry out her revenge on the two people who had stolen her husband from her.

Which was in fact, partly true. But Sareesa would be heartbroken and insane if she found out what he had done.

He sheathed the sword, fingering the ruby in the hilt with dark sensuality.

It glimmered, reflecting some inner, dark quality.

"Soon, soon... These one's blood was pathetic. Not nearly enough power to suffice."

The gem winked darkly at him, shining fiercly as he polished its many faceted surface.

"Soon," he whispered again.

Spreading wings that sprouted instantly from his back, he lunged out the tall windows, leaving his legacy behind, in the shape of a twisted pentagram, strange symbols within showing his trademark of murder.

The Alchemist had struck again.

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Hehe.

I felt like ending it there.

And so I did.

Hadasah

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Dracula: ...

Hadasah: what?!

Dracula: You... never mind.

Hadasah: -bastard-

Dracula: Excuse me?

Hadasah: -edges away- Ehm, nothing. -reaches for door-

Dracula: -slams door- No, I insist my dear. - advances on her - Do, elaborate.

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Ten Minutes Later

Hadasah: Ehehe... uh ... this would be so much easier to write if I wasn't pinned to the wall by my unrelenting ... eh, character...

Dracula: I object that comment. You know me well enough, now that-

Hadasah: - smacks hand to mouth- Shut up!!!

Dracula: What, not like they can't guess or anything...

Hadasah: ...you are a bastard.

Dracula: -smirk- you know it... whore.

Randomness.

Review please. Or no cookie for you.

...hehe.