When I regained consciousness, I wasn't totally sure if I had passed out from exhaustion, hysteria, or the wave of incredulous information that had flooded my brain over the night's events. Rubbing my aching forehead, I decided a little bit of each. Whatever I lay on had contoured quite well to me; I didn't feel the cramps that long awaited to claim my muscles after their strenuous task. I felt beneath me. An impossibly soft mattress nearly sucked my hand in. There was a grunt. I peered into the enveloping darkness of the room for the first time. From what I could see, it looked very old. Not old like dusty cobwebs and strewn junk that should've been burned long ago, but a serene Victorian style setting with well-furnished layout of large chester drawers and a wardrobe that could've fit three of my closet. Old lamps that probably ran on oil were tucked away on a glass coffee table that rested beneath a gigantic chandelier set into the domed ceiling of bronze angels and a vast array of other celestial artwork I couldn't quite make out, probably something from the Rotunda itself...

My eyes finally settled on what I assumed had made the noise: a dark silhouette in a high armchair that could've easily been a throne from the way it glittered in the frail beam of moonlight that had managed to sneak through the velveteen curtains draping a cracked window that extended several meters from the floor to the ceiling. The silhouette shuddered, grunting again.

"V-Viktor?" I called softly. His head rose though all I could see, surprisingly were the deep glow of his chestnut eyes. It creeped me out a little. Okay, it was most likely the fact he was a... I couldn't bring myself to say the word again- I'd probably fall out of the bed and crack my skull open on my way down.

"Caleb..." he said gruffly, but I could still hear the relief in his voice. He moved out of the chair and to my side on the bed, immediately checking to see if I was harmed in any way. I pulled his large hand away from my face, slowly, meeting into his concerned gaze with defiant reassurance.

"Enough with me; why were you sounding like a distressed rhino?" He moved almost in attempt to shy away from me, but I pulled him back before he could make his escape. My hands swept over him in one deft movement. I met the bare skin of his chest. He'd pulled his shirt halfway up to nurse the scars my fingers now traced. Claw and bite marks...

"They will be gone come morning..." Viktor whispered. "I am a fast healer..." I moved to pull the rest of his shirt off. He stopped me. "What are you doing?"

"Finding out what's really ailing you," I said stiffly. "These don't seem to be it." I tugged at the material again, and he let me go, defeated. I gently pulled the cloth from his torso, tossing it where it floated down softly into a corner of the room. His bare skin had an eerie hue in the moonlight that had now moved to fill the entirety of the bed. I began to search with my hands, nervously exploring his cool skin and the thick, taut muscle rippling it like coiled steel... he grimaced suddenly, hissing like a snake rudely disturbed from concealed slumber- I had reached his back. Instinctively, my hands jerked away. I watched to see if he would protest my examination, but Viktor remained deathly still, yet relaxed.

I continued.

The spot I last touched was as smooth and unmarred as the rest of the skin around it, but an odd thrum of heat radiated from it, catching my attention. My fingers pressed gently and Viktor gave another hiss, still retaining his idle posture, however. I would never forget this spot, if any, on his body. Ricky Davies... I fished into the back pocket of my jeans, slowly drawing the switchblade - I had completely forgotten about it; not that it would have done any good against those things - I'd nicked from the hospital that had nearly claimed his life with shaking hands. I flicked it open. The blade gleamed ominously, as if smug at being so close to its own handiwork.

"Viktor?" He looked back over his broad shoulder. "How could this possibly have incapacitated you? Your other wounds... are cruise missiles compared to..." I stopped. The dark markings on the blade... Ricky's full name was etched into the blade with superior calligraphy bedecked with ornate patterns of roses. The interlocking designs of wicked thorns dominating most of the section of metal were what had actually caught my eye. Hadn't I seen something about this at one time or another?

"I see," Viktor began. "Wild roses... thorns, really... one of the many conceived apotropaics that actually work against my kind..."

"This... kept you from healing?"

"Slowed the process down considerably; a standstill, to be frank," Viktor replied, glaring at the small knife now.

" 'The branch of wild rose on his coffin keep him that he move not from it...'- Professor Van Helsing. The tradition began from your Jesus Christ being crowned with thorns, a symbol of his suffering for man; a particular relevance in the power of the thorn in keeping away evil. It carried on that roses and their natural defenses could be used to keep my race from rising to meet another day, however, it was merely misinterpreted like so many other myths against us; if we were maimed, cut even the slightest bit, we would suffer the curse of age to that point of contact, rendering us helpless if the wound were found fatal.."

"It's only a design."

"Whomever worked this metal knew what they were doing, I suppose. For that style, it is still quite old."

"Then... why did you let Ricky get you in the first place?"

"It would have looked very suspicious if I had not, and besides, I had thought it was just a ordinary blade- nothing dangerous."

" 'I passed out from a knife in the back?' " I repeated, remembering his smugness at the thought. "Is there... anyway to mend you?"

"I know some people; they will handle it." He extended his hand, and I handed him the switchblade. He tucked it away and faced me fully. "I can smell your blood; you are injured."

"It's nothing... really," I said defensively, shrugging away a little.

"I let you play doctor; the least you can do is allow me to return the favor." I swallowed hard. The chills I was about to have with him touching my bare skin... He smiled, teeth flashing. "Relax." He laid me back again. I obliged, silently careening. He placed a hand beneath my shirt and pulled it back over my head, exposing me. His deadly hands became quite gentle as he lightly moved along my stomach first, up to my chest, then across to my arms where he hesitated on the fine cuts that had resulted from the falling glass of the club's cache. For the briefest moment, his face contorted into a look of hunger, but it was gone so fast, I hoped I had imagined it.

"Is this... hard for you?" I asked quietly. "My blood, I mean..." He gave a soft chuckle that was more unnerving than it should've been.

"More than you know..." He distracted himself, softly tracing up my arm. It took all my will not to shudder. He changed the subject. "You are... surprisingly calm- about all of this." I grinned.

"I take well to change, I guess. Falling for another boy, getting attacked in night clubs; it makes life interesting." He grinned back. "At the moment, I'm only worried what my mother will think when I don't show up tonight."

"It is necessary..." He dropped the edge to his voice. "You must have questions..." I nodded, relieved to focus on something else besides him caressing me.

"How long have you been a..." I paused. "...like this? How did it happen?" Viktor gave an understanding breath and pulled himself fully onto the bed, stretching out beside me and propping himself up on one elbow. He left his hand on me, only allowing it to leave my arm and slide up to my face in an absentminded graze. Our eyes locked as he pondered the best way to begin his story. "That long, huh?" I wondered. He nodded, still stroking my face. He must've felt the burning heat my flushed skin was giving off for he smiled, letting his hand drop.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he teased. I rolled my eyes, settling against him. He dropped his cheek to the top of my head.


"I guess it all starts with this whole Dracula persona you humans and your wild imaginations have come up with. There was a Dracula, yes, but he was not the dark prince of vampires because he was the strongest of out kin. Vlad Tepes(1. was prince of the vampires because he was the strongest hunter descended from the long line of chasseurs of which Radu Negru(2. - Vlad's grandfather who reigned from 1386 to 1418 (if you want some form of a date) - was most infamous. My people have lived ever since sin was born into this world, thriving off the live force of others for they were damned to. These... hunters... wanted us eliminated from the face of the Earth, but there were far too many; much of whom were much smarter than the ones that chased them. To save face, this particular ménage of hunters paraded the few vampires they did find in humiliating fashions. Two of their most famous methods: impalement and cannibalism, both of which Vlad was famous for, and what gave many the inclination that he was truly one of us for the amount of control he seemed to possess. They say the name Dracul was given by Turks, but it was really my people who knew the man as "devil".

"How that ties in with myself... I am descended from Vlad. He was foolhardy and got tangled with one too strong even for him. He was bitten. He knew he could no longer live with his kin for he was now what they trained all their lives to kill. He shunned himself into the darkest corners of the city and slowly began learning the ways of my people. There were too many that wanted him dead; he needed protection. He created an army. No, an empire. An empire so vast that he became royalty in the eyes of my kin. Not only could no one touch him, the vampires he bred were stronger and faster and smarter than any other clan in all of Europe. They were not pure bred. They were the strongest line of hunters mixed with the deadliest of vampires.

"I was the first bitten of his new clan. Through months of planning, Vlad had configured his best place to start was the hospital- plenty of dying, sick people that no one had given a damn about in the first place. I was his eye candy. Despite the life-threatening fever I ran, my body still remained strong and fit. He waited and waited, posed as a doctor through some form of forgery until I was in my last minutes of life. He asked me if I wanted to live. To be healthy again. To be strong enough to get out of bed and live my life again. And like a fool, I said yes. The pain was incredible. Like being on fire with poison running through your veins at the same time. But I survived it. Like I said, I was strong, and I was a bohzidar now- a vampire prince.

"I was second in line, so naturally, I was the most knowledgeable from the time my new father "awakened" me upon my death bed. It hurt the most when I, who had been forced from my old life-despite its hardships-was indebted to destroy so many other lives and bring upon them this never ending death. I was an accursed wrath to always walk the Earth with my misery. Until many decades after when a new order arose: the vampires who still remembered who Vlad really was. We were forced to scatter and our leader was devoured, split among hundreds of vampires in a feast of the damned.

"I moved around frequently from place to place, never quite settling in one spot for too long. I was still young and ignorant to the ways of the outside world. I decided to come overseas after the settling of many fresh colonies, but it still was never right for me- Europe was still my home. The years passed on and on and on, but I had stopped noticing anymore. When you live forever, the passing of time is nothing more than grain of sand in a desert wind. Technology advanced, people thrived, times were good, times were bad. The vampires in Europe were no longer a mere legend. Yes, they kept themselves hidden for fear of another witch hunt, but the Dracul Empire was dead, wiped out completely. All that is, except for me. I survived. I wasn't about to die a second time. That's why I had to leave. The forces against me were too strong for me to oppose, and joining them only meant a swift death..."

"And now you're here," I said softly, finishing. I nearly said it unconsciously; I'd been so drawn into his recollection. He nodded into my own head, and there was a moment of silence in which I lay, letting his words sink into me. Viktor waited patiently, hardly even moving whilst I tried to keep myself sane. I finally looked up at him, him down at me.

Only one question would do."You're a prince?" We both went into a fit of laughter that only comes from the aftermath of some traumatic event that you barely managed to survive. And there was his laugh again. I found myself smiling more than usual. I loved it. He needed to let loose a lot more than he did.

"You know," Viktor said, settling down once more to gaze at me, "you're really cute when you do that?"

"What?" I asked suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Smile," his dark eyes softened before his lips brushed across mine. And we were at it. I guess it's like those times in the movies. You know, after the guy and the girl survive some big catastrophe and have some of the hottest moments seen on film? Yeah, that's definitely how to explain this one.

a.n. i know. i left you all hanging again, but i just had to get it out there that i got s a chance to write as well as getting a chance to come up with an explanation of Viktor's past life which was extremely hard despite how easy it seems. not writing about a vampire like a million others have is not a simple task. whew but yes, i am still writing, and i hope this can tempt your tastes (for a little while anyway) until i can come up with a gratifying finale to this long awaited chapter and moment...

till then, hope you all enjoyed so far. i think i might make some changes in the previous chapters, so if a minor character's name changes or something, don't be thrown off, you'll know who they are.

:D btw,

(1.Vlad the Impaler

(2. Rudolph the Black, Dracula's grandfather, Prince Mircea the Old


a.n. NEW SECTION; here's the long-awaited ending to this chapter

Kissing Viktor was like taking a really cool shower on a hot day, being totally engulfed in chill and comfort at the same time. It was sedative. Every wild thought or troubled care slipped away in an instant, lost to the serenity of the moment. There was only us.

He gently moved me back, so I was fully lying back on the bed, and moved completely on top of me. He pulled my legs apart and got between them, my legs moved instantly to wrap around his. He was heavy above me but I loved it, being pushed down against the mattress. Viktor ran a large hand down my chest, teasing one of my nipples; I gasped softly, surprised at how good it felt .I returned the sensual favor, feeling my way up his defined, tan stomach, tickling him. Viktor laughed and leaned down, nibbling on my earlobe. His breath tickled the hairs on my neck, and I shuddered. "Are you... ready," he breathed huskily. I looked up at him curiously, wondering where to go from here. I had certainly never been this far past first base. Before I could even react, Viktor clutched my hips with both hands, bucking his own in slow, controlled thrusts. I moaned, loving the feeling of having every inch of his cool skin pressed against me. I especially enjoyed the feeling of his hard member rubbing against mine as he ground down against me.

At the same time, he licked my bottom lip, requesting entrance. I granted it, and his tongue slid in to shyly meet mine, dueling as it went. I'll admit, there was an iron taste to it (of which, I knew all to well what from), but it didn't matter, the rest of it was too good. His scent was overwhelming; driving me into a state of horny I'd never experienced. In the back of my mind, I knew it would come to this some day, me and Viktor. A part of me was rearing to go, never so turned on in its life. The other side, however, was nervous, almost reluctant to the power it was giving itself into. It was that part, I decided, that made me cease suddenly, against my will. Viktor felt it. He stopped, breaking the moment of intense passion. We were both panting heavily, valiantly trying to catch our breath. I opened my eyes and studied Viktor's face; his deeply set eyes were just opening. Holding himself up, he started pushing my locked hair from my face, spreading it out above me.

"Sorry," I muttered, not meeting his gaze.

"It's okay," he said softly with a smile, kissing the side of my mouth and twirling a finger through my diffused hair. "When you are ready. I will wait." I almost cried. He was so sweet and I had just tossed him off like nothing- he didn't deserve me.

Viktor rolled over, deftly sliding under the blankets and beckoning for me to join him. I did, reluctantly. I could feel the disappointment rolling off of him in waves. And it was all my fault for leading him on like that. What a cock tease. Viktor pulled my back against his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist protectively. I sighed and relaxed undeservingly in his arms. I sure hadn't expected something like this to happen in my lifetime. Then again, I didn't expect most of the things that were happening to me lately. My life was becoming one never-ending surprise party, and I was the fool stuck in the middle of it being showered with whatever everyone else decided to throw at him.


a.n. Caleb and Viktor... they were nearly there and Caleb decided to pull out, keep reading; there's always more than one chance...

tell me how you liked seeing as i have updated in quite a while there. i hope i still have faithful readers 0.o

the next chapter will be rearing to go bf the week is out, so stay tuned... :D