The muse and his legion of minion plot bunnies have laid siege against me and one of the conditions of my surrender was that I give you this chapter now instead of next week. His nibs can be so persuasive... and demanding.

ENJOY!


IX

Ana had always loved the sharp scratch of the short whiskers on David's face against her skin, whether it be against her own contrastingly smooth cheek, along her neck, or, especially, against the delicate suppleness of her inner thigh. Just the thought of his mouth and tongue kissing the deepest part of her made the vampire uncharacteristically warm as her lover continued to ravish her mouth with hot kisses, his fingers tangled in her gently curled hair as the peach pie she had been making earlier was long forgotten.

Ana had known David since she was a young girl of barely twelve, he just two years older than she. At the time, she had still been human and so full of life, whereas he had been a young werewolf, eager to prove himself. The two were inseparable then, and even more so now, despite all that had transpired in the last two decades of their lives.

David didn't care that Ana was now a vampire. He didn't care that she had given herself to Dracula and had born his child. All he cared about was her safety and her happiness, and all he knew was that being with her made him incredibly happy – nothing else compared. In fact, living those two years without her, when Dracula had kidnapped and seduced her, were the hardest years he had ever known. Ana was his beacon, his light in the darkness, his truth in a sea of lies, his sanity in a world of madness.

He would never tire of kissing her, he thought to himself as he pressed himself harder against her, eagerly devouring her tongue and reeling at the scent of her arousal that was so potent in the air, he could feel it soaking into his flesh. He wanted nothing more than to smell of her, to have her taste forever lingering on his tongue and it made his lips more greedy and his hands all the more eager as he ran one palm over the swell of a breast and the other over her buttocks, his finger tracing along the seam of her pants before dipping down and under where he could feel the heat between her thighs increasing with every second.

Ana's lips parted in a breathlessness that made him heady with desire and he watched with deep satisfaction as the fangs in her mouth began to protrude from behind her lips as his hand moved over her hip before resting between her thighs where he rubbed two of his fingers against the seam of her crotch.

His eyes glowed yellow as his own insatiable hunger began to grow, his heart pounding furiously in his head. Ana bit her lower lip as she held onto him.

"David, Lailah is going to kill you if you don't go and check the perimeter," she panted rather unconvincingly. "You were supposed to go out over an hour ago."

"But I'd much rather be here with you," he husked, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers pressed more firmly against her, soon replacing the digits with the entirety of his palm. "Oh woman, what you do to me," he groaned, moving his hand away from the searing heat between her thighs and smoothing a molten path up to her neck where he held the column gently in his grip. He pulled her head towards his and kissed her again, loving how she seemed to go limp in his hold. "I want to ravish you."

"If you hurry back, you can," she promised him in heady tones, taking the lobe of his ear in her mouth. "But you better hurry, because if you leave me in this state for too long, I'll have to do something about it myself."

There was nothing subtle in her tone and just the thought of finding Ana taking her personal pleasure into her own hands made him hard and achy and his fingers hooked behind the waist of her pants as if he were contemplating taking her here and now in the kitchen instead of making sure they were still safe while Lailah was out.

But they were shortly interrupted by the sound of a young and familiar voice.

"Mom?" Eva called from down the hall. "Mom, do you know how long Aunt Lailah is going to be gone?" and the young girl appeared in the doorway, sending her mother and adopted father peculiar looks when she noticed how mussed up Ana's hair was and how flushed David's cheeks were.

They were standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, but it was clear they hadn't been just moments ago.

"Was this one of those times when I probably should have knocked first?" Eva asked carefully. David chuckled as Ana cleared her throat, struggling to regain her composure.

"It almost was, dear. Don't worry about it," Ana insisted, sending David a look that the young girl noted but did not understand.

"I thought you left an hour ago?" the child said to David this time, as he ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to smooth out the mess.

"Your mother was distracting me."

"I was not!" Ana nearly shouted as her lover laughed, quickly heading towards the door.

"We will finish this conversation later," he promised her, pointing at her, his eyes full of meaning, before he patted Eva on the head and was out the door. When he was gone, Ana let out a sigh before turning her attention over to her daughter who was watching her rather expectantly.

"Are you bored, sweetheart?" Ana asked and Eva groaned dramatically, hanging onto the frame of the door and leaning back.

"Oh my god, yes!" she exclaimed. "I want to get out of this stupid house. Mom, I literally can't remember the last time I went outside, or played with kids my own age. Do I even know kids my own age?"

Ana laughed.

"I know, hon. It's been hard on all of us being cooped up in here for so long. Maybe when Lailah gets back, we can head out into town for a bit."

"Really?"

"Why don't you go see if Freya's finished closing up? Lailah should be home soon."

Eva, thrilled at the prospect of a change of scenery, was out of the kitchen in a flash. She was about to run out into the open part of the bar when she heard voices she didn't recognize. The years of conditioning had her staying hidden in the hall, peaking her head around the corner only when she was certain she wouldn't be seen.

Freya was behind the bar, as was her usual. The toned muscles of her slender arms were noticeable as she wiped down the counter in a methodical and rather agitated manner, speaking in low tones to two women who were seated opposite her at the bar.

The eldest was a tall and slim looking woman, her long hair the color of silver and pulled back into a high ponytail, her clearly aged skin soft in appearance, despite the lines of experience that marked her brow, eyes, and cheeks. Yet she was beautiful, dressed in a black snake-skin dress with a high collar and short sleeves, large black hoop earrings completing the ensemble.

The woman beside her was comparatively younger, though still older than Freya, with full, burgundy colored hair and skin so pale and eyes so blue, Eva thought she was a vampire at first, yet it was clear the two visitors were mortal – or at least human – for she could hear their hearts beating steadily in their chests.

"Freya, please reconsider," the older woman insisted, leaning forward. "The coven grows weaker every year we're trapped in this city. Without the chance to return to nature to restore and rejuvenate ourselves, our powers will continue to fade. Your powers will fade."

"Actually, Rowan, I've never felt more powerful," Freya answered simply. "Leaving your coven was the best decision I ever made. I didn't regret it then, and I certainly don't regret it now. Unlike the rest of you, I was born to magic. I'm sorry, but I will not help you. Going up against Myra is suicide. She'd kill us all in a heartbeat if she felt threatened."

"Not if you stood with us," the younger woman said, and she reached out, placing her slender hand on top of Freya's. Freya stopped her vigorous scrubbing of the counter and stared at their joined hands with an expression Eva did not understand – it was full of pain and memories – so many memories. "You are a de Winter, Freya – the last de Winter. The curse on this city is rooted in sacrificial magic, yes, but it is also rooted in blood – your blood. De Winter blood. All we would need is the right spell at the right moment. We could put an end to Dracula's tyranny once and for all."

Freya looked up and into the woman's bright blue eyes.

"Rebekah."

The name came out in a long sigh, a world of feeling in her voice.

"Please, Freya. We need you. I need you."

The witch held Freya's gaze for some time, the silence between them poignant and though Eva had never seen either of these women before, she could tell there was great history between them and it made her curious. She almost expected Freya to relent, to agree to help, but she never did. Instead, she pulled her hand away from Rebekah's carefully, her gaze cast down.

"Where were you when I need your help?" she asked the visitors, an ache in her voice that appeared to slice through the heart of them. "Where were you when I came and begged the coven to help me, to help Myra? You abandoned her when she needed you most. You were supposed to protect her, supposed to keep her safe. You were supposed to keep both of us safe, and you abandoned us and you have the gall to come here and ask me for my help?" she asked, her voice increasing in volume as her temper got the better of her.

Freya slammed the rag she had been holding down onto the counter.

"No," she snapped. "No, I will not help you! Not after what you did."

"Freya, please," Rowan began, but when they saw the look in Freya's eyes, they shrank and immediately backed down.

"Get out of my bar," Freya hissed venomously, each word emphasized, her voice full of barely restrained rage, something Eva had never witnessed in the woman before and it frightened her somewhat.

It was clear Rebekah wanted to press the subject further, but Rowan wisely placed her hand on the woman's shoulder and shook her head. The two excused themselves, offered an apology that Eva did not understand the purpose of, and then they were gone.

"Who were they?" Eva asked when the coast was clear, her presence causing Freya to jump in surprise.

"What are you doing, lurking in the shadows?" the witch asked, but the girl knew the woman well enough to know she was trying to change the subject, and she may have been a child, but she was no fool. Growing up around nothing but adults had made her more mature than most her age.

"Who were they?" she repeated. "Are they witches?"

"Yes," Freya answered, although a little bit hesitantly.

"Old friends?" she asked, climbing up one of the bar stools so she could sit on the counter.

"They used to be, a long time ago. Long before you were born."

"What did they want?"

"You are just full of questions tonight, aren't you?"

"I have nothing to do," Eva answered simply. "And most of the people that come in here are quiet strangers who get so bored with us, they never seem to come back."

"We get regulars!" Freya insisted, but Eva laughed.

"No we don't, Aunt Freya. We're lucky if we get one or two people in here."

"It's better than being stuck with the lot of you all the time," she muttered, but when she noticed the hurt look in the child's eyes, the bitterness in her eyes softened. "Oh no, Eva, I didn't mean it like that. It's just…"

Freya sighed heavily, tossing the rag onto the counter before lifting herself up so she could sit beside her.

"Before this whole mess with Dracula and the angels and everyone trying to kill us, there was a strong witch community in the city that I used to be a part of. I've spent most of my days living a very social life, so being locked up in here for the last ten years – it's been really hard. Yes, your mom and dad and you, and even Lailah, have been wonderful and you guys are like family to me and I would do anything for you. But sometimes we get so wrapped up in helping others, we forget to take care of ourselves, and for me, being around people – whether friend or stranger – it helps me to recharge. Despite all of our differences, we are all, or at least were, all human at one point and humans are naturally social creatures."

"So why don't you rejoin your old coven? It's clear they want you back."

Freya's smile was suddenly full of sadness as she squeezed Eva's smaller hand with hers.

"Oh child, if only it were that simple."

"Why did they apologize to you? What did they do?"

Before Freya could answer, the sound of the city's sirens could suddenly be heard, piercing through the silence of the night in the otherwise quiet streets outside of the bar and the girls turned to look at the door, both tuning their ears to the sound. Ana appeared in the hall, having heard the sirens as well and a look of trepidation began to mar her features.

"Is Lailah back?" she asked, doing her best to keep her voice level and calm, though Freya quickly recognized the rapidly growing panic that was caught in the vampire's throat.

"No," she answered quietly, continuing to watch the door. The sirens seemed to grow louder with each passing moment, soon coupled with the sounds of screams that Eva figured were just a couple of blocks away.

"We weren't due for another search until next week," Ana said.

"Well, looks like they changed up the schedule."

The back door flew open and the three females jumped in surprise, Freya quickly pulling Eva off the counter and behind the bar instinctively until they realized it was David who had just joined them. Ana moved in to embrace him and he held her tightly, panting heavily as if he had just run for his very life.

"Where's Lailah?" he asked, looking to Freya. The witch shook her head.

"She's still not back."

"Damn it!"

"What's going on out there? Another search?"

"Worse," he said. "Brutes." Ana felt her heart plummet into her belly and suddenly ill with worry. "They're checking every door they find," he explained, "abandoned building or otherwise. The leader among them is asking where Ana is."

Ana, pale with terror, covered her mouth.

"He's coming for me."

It was more a statement than a question and Eva, hearing the fear in her mother's voice, made a move to go to her when they suddenly heard shouting just outside the door.

"What about this one?" they heard a gruff voice shout.

Ana opened her mouth to call out for Eva, but David quickly put his hands over her lips to silence her as Freya motioned to one of the larger cupboards beneath the bar and pointed for the child to get inside. Eva crawled in just in time as the front door flew open before Freya could turn off the "open" sign, which would have reestablished the barrier surrounding the bar – but she wasn't fast enough.

David carefully shoved Ana into the shadows and out of sight, before blocking the arched entrance to the hall with his body, leaning as casually as he could against the archway as Freya began to buff the bar.

There were three of them that came in through the front door – hybrids from the look and smell of it, but darker and more foul than anything in Dracula's regular standing army. His brute force was something else entirely – a powerful bunch to be reckoned with, more like barbaric mercenaries than soldiers.

The Count only ever set them loose upon the city if he wanted to prove a point.

It was clear this point was for Ana.

The leader of the trio was a tall man, a towering figure with long brown hair that was scraggly and unkempt, his leathers worn, his skin littered with battle scars – with a long sword on his hip and a battle axe strapped to his back. David instantly recognized the man as Henrik – one of the most lethal warriors to ever exist under Dracula's command. A man most only knew by reputation only – and what a reputation. The other two beside him weren't as terrifying to behold, but they were still fearsome.

"We're closed," Freya said as evenly as she could. "You'll have to come back tomorrow."

"That's funny," Henrik replied, and he turned to point at the illuminated sign in the window. "It says you're open."

"Yes, but you'll notice our hours posted on the door," she replied, not a trace of fear in her eyes as she met his gaze boldly. "I'm certain you can read, good sir."

Henrik, with a swiftness that was unreal, unsheathed a knife from his waist and slammed it down on the bar, right between Freya's fingers, pinning the rag to the counter. She quickly recovered from the surprise and met his gaze again.

"I'm no good, and I'm no sir," Henrik replied, allowing his eyes to roam leisurely over her body before resting on the soft swell of cleavage that erupted from the front of her tank-top. "Now be a good wench and pour me and my men a drink, and we'll be on our merry way… or I'll be taking more than just a shot of whisky from you. Understand?" and he allowed the tips of his jagged fangs to show from behind his lips in an effort to intimidate her.

"I said we're closed, sir," Freya repeated boldly.

A low growl coming from David interrupted the tense looks the hybrid and the witch were exchanging and Henrik chuckled, clearly unmoved by the threat of danger.

"Your measly little mutt is no match for three hybrids, pet. Best to tell your dog to stand down before he gets hurt."

"See, now there's your greatest mistake," Freya replied, leaning over so she could distract him with a better view of her décolletage, "thinking I need him to protect me."

In a bold move Henrik had not anticipated, Freya grabbed the handle of his knife, pulled it out of the counter and then swiftly slammed it back down again. The blade sliced right through his wrist, pinning him to the bar and she used her magic to push the blade deep into the thick wood.

Simultaneously, David morphed into his wolf form, diving for the brute closest to him, his powerful jaws clamping on the man's arm. Henrik swung his free fist towards Freya's face, but she leaned back just in time, his knuckles barely grazing the side of her jaw. She instinctively reacted by stretching her hand forward as power expelled from the center of her palm with such a force, it sent Henrik's head snapping back and the third brute went flying out the door at just the right angle so when his head hit the frame, it came clean off, killing him instantly.

David and the other remaining brute tore viciously at one another, all teeth and deadly claws, tearing flesh and sending blood spraying about the floor before the torn skin healed itself. Although David's blows were powerful, he was nothing to the massive brute who had both the power of a werewolf and the agility of a vampire. But David took every hit that came at him, no matter how hard.

Unable to bear the sight of her lover taking such a beating, Ana swallowed her fear and let out an unearthly roar as she partially shifted into her beast form, unable to change completely due to the tiny space. Yet a single blow of her sharp talons to the brute's chest was enough to distract him momentarily, giving David the opportunity to get behind him and leap onto his back, burying his teeth into the man's neck and shoulder.

Meanwhile, Freya, having run out of luck, had taken a horrible blow to the side of her face which sent her flying back into the glass shelves of bottles which rained down on top of her, slicing open her skin as she watched Henrik pull the knife from his wrist. The blood from the ruptured arteries in his wrist gushed like a fountain that poured all over the surface of the bar before his skin healed. His eyes were full of fury as he licked his own gore off the blade.

"You shouldn't have done that, dearie," Henrik growled, climbing on top of the bar counter.

Freya stretched out her hand once again and the shattered glass that surrounded her went flying in his direction like a wave, slicing his skin to ribbons and distracting him enough so he lost his footing and fell backwards.

Furious, he pulled out his axe and swung down onto the bar, the power of the blow sending the blade straight through the wood as if it were a soft cheese. Eva let out a scream from within the cupboard, Henrik's axe having missed her by mere inches. The sound of her cry caused a moments distraction for Ana, who turned in the direction of her daughter, only to be pummeled by a terrible blow of a table which had been swung at her face and the impact sent her skidding across the room.

David shouted her name, which caught Henrik's attention and he turned in the direction of Ana who managed to thrust the table off of her and into the wall, the wood exploding into a hundred splinters.

Henrik sent his knife slicing through the air where it landed in David's chest, just grazing his heart. David cried out as the silver-plated steel burned and he reached for the hilt of the blade only to be thrown across the room by the other brute.

"Well, well, well," Henrik exclaimed with terrifying glee. "If it isn't the master's little whore," and he looked in Ana's direction. "Which means this little cupboard mouse must be his brat," and he raised his axe to slice through the bar once again, only this time on Eva's head, when an invisible force sent him careening out of the bar through a window and into the street.

Freya stood, a wind with an unknown source blowing about her as her eyes blackened and power radiated from her.

"You will not touch her!" she shouted, floating up over the counter.

Freya floated down onto the floor on the other side and began to walk towards the open door, the sirens still blaring through the streets. With a wave of her hands, the splinters and broken pieces of furniture from inside came flying out of the humble establishment and she had them rain down onto Henrik, watching as the objects impaled his flesh each time he tried to stand.

The distraction was just what David needed to pull the blade from his chest and sneak up behind the remaining brute that had pinned Ana to the floor. He grabbed the brute's head and with all the rage that was in him, he tore off his opponent's head, the powerful blow causing the brute's blood to spray all over Ana.

Their eyes met and a single moment of absolute relief washed over the two of them.

"Mom?" Eva called out, emerging from the rubble that had once been the bar. Ana reached out her arms and the child ran into her mother's ready embrace, until David interrupted the moment, remembering Freya.

They stood in the doorway and watched the witch as she muttered dark spells that contorted and brutalized Henrik, but with each dose of pain she sent his way, he continued to struggle against her. The sky above them began to darken as Freya pulled her power from the earth, the veins in her hands and arms growing black and visible beneath the pallor of her skin as the wooden shards of the broken furniture impaled Henrik again and again and again until at last, he collapsed onto his side and fell still.

Freya finally allowed her hands to fall to her sides as she made her way over to the unconscious brute, his body littered with large pieces of wood, the stench of his blood potent. Convinced he was no more, Freya moved closer to examine the body.

Thinking the worst was over, David took Ana into his arms and held her close, but it was Eva who watched on, observing Henrik's body closely and from a safe distance. It was when she saw something glisten in his hand that she realized the danger Freya was in and she screamed.

"Freya! Look out!"

The warning came a second too late, however, as Henrik rolled over, knife in hand. He swung the blade into the air with every intention of gutting the witch, but the child's warning, though late, had been just enough to give Freya the chance to move back – but not far enough. The edge of the blade slid across her stomach, slicing open her belly, not too deep to completely disembowel her, but deep enough to be fatal.

Freya felt all the air leave her lungs in a sharp rush as the pain overwhelmed her senses all at once, knocking the breath right out of her. Her hand instinctively clutched at her stomach to check the damage, and that's when she felt the sticky warmth of her blood pushing it's way between her fingers as she fell to the ground. The pain was unlike anything she had experienced before and in that instant, all she could hear was the beating of her own heart in her head – and the sound of Eva screaming as though she were far off in the distance.

The child ran out into the street, tears of anger in her eyes and her fangs lengthened as she felt her wings expand out of her back. All Eva could see was red, but before she could get too far, David caught her by the ankle, swinging her roughly into Ana who wrapped her arms around the child to restrain her.

Eva watched in horror as her world seemed to move in slow motion. Henrik had removed his battle-axe from his back and he lifted it into the air, ready to bring it crashing down onto Freya who lay there helpless and bleeding out. David began to shift into his werewolf form as he desperately ran into the street, but Eva could see he would never make it in time. He was too far away and the sharp blade of the axe seemed to grow ever closer to Freya's face.

And then there was a light - a blinding light, brighter than the sun, brighter than anything Eva had ever seen.

It filled the street and momentarily blinded the girl and she covered her eyes. When the light dissipated, Henrik was on his back, farther down the block, and Lailah stood at the other end, Freya between them. Eva felt her heart soar at the sight of the angel as an insurmountable amount of hope overwhelmed her tiny little body and tears began to pour from her eyes.

"David, get Freya out of here," the angel said, her voice calm and her eyes fixed on Henrik who was at the other end of the street, struggling to get himself up onto his feet. David lifted Freya into his arms and quickly moved her inside with Ana following after him, but Eva stayed in the doorway, watching in awe as Lailah stalked towards Henrik, who had his sword in one hand and his axe in the other, ready for battle.

Lailah, though stoic and terrifyingly calm on the outside, was a boiling inferno of barely containable rage within, her eyes dark with anger. Henrik would not have come here of all places of his own free will.

This had Dracula's handiwork written all over it and it infuriated her. He had some nerve, swearing that Ana, Eva, and the others would be safe if she agreed to meet with him, only to send out a small band of mercenaries to terrorize the very people he promised to leave alone.

Oh, she would have words with him tomorrow – that much was certain.

But she had a fire and a fury in her that needed to be unleashed and Henrik, who was shouting obscenities at her, egging her on – he was the perfect one to let it all out on.

"Come on!" he shouted, gripping the hilt of his sword and his axe tightly, readying his stance as she continued to approach, one calm step at a time. "Come on, you angel bitch!"

Lailah never said a word.

She merely extended her hand as she continued to approach and Henrik felt his insides seize suddenly. As she grew nearer, she gradually began to close her outstretched hand into a tight fist, the action sending a searing pain rippling through his body, yet still he held his ground. She opened her hand again, and the pain intensified. He could feel the bones in his hands fracturing, up his fingers into his palms, through his wrists, the bone shattering like glass under too much weight.

The intensity of the pain made him cry out and he dropped his weapons to the ground as the bones of his arms began to break next, the popping sound loud when the breaks reached his humerus, sickening to hear.

She was a mere six feet from him now and when she clenched her fist once more, he felt each one of his ribs snap in half, one at a time and Henrik fell to his knees as he fought the scream that tore at his throat. He refused to give her the satisfaction, but Lailah was not one accustomed to being refused what she wanted, especially when she was angry.

Eva watched from the doorway as Lailah reached out rather suddenly and took Henrik's head in both of her hands, light emanating from her palms as her thumbs dug into his temples and the hybrid let out a gut-wrenching scream of complete and utter agony as if his head was under an immense, crushing pressure. Lailah slipped into the blackness of his mind and began to search for his memories of this street and his interactions with Freya, Ana, Eva, and David. When she found what she was looking for, she plucked the memories out of his head and obliterated them, replacing them with emptiness and a never-ending pain, in case Dracula's witch ever tried to retrieve those memories or even traces of them.

When her work was done, the light in her hands disappeared and she released his head, watching with mild disinterest as he collapsed unconscious at her feet. Lailah bent down and grabbed a fistful of his hair so she could lift his ear closer to her lips.

"If I ever see you down here again, I will kill you," she promised before throwing his head back to the ground.

Lailah then stood gracefully and with a wave of her hand, his body disappeared from the street, where it would later reappear at the front steps of Dracula's palace.

The angel, having not used so much of her power in so long, was suddenly lightheaded as she felt something wet and a little cold running down her upper lip from her nose. Lailah reached up to wipe whatever it was away only to discover blood on her fingertips. She stared at the crimson liquid in silence, immediately suppressing the panic that was swelling in her chest.

She'd have to be more careful, she thought to herself, and she quickly wiped the rest away before turning to see Eva still standing in the doorway to the bar.

The little girl, with her wide, electric blue eyes and long, dark hair, looked like a female miniature of her father, the Count, for just a split moment, and that seemed to snap her back into the present. Lailah moved out of the street, her pace brisk and stride long as she quickly made her way over to Eva who looked like she was in shock.

Immediately moving down to her knees so she could be on the same eye level as the girl, Lailah grabbed the child by the arms and looked into her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

It took her a moment, but Eva finally nodded, which seemed to be enough for Lailah as she turned her head to look inside the bar where she found a trail of Freya's blood leading inside and into the back hall. Grabbing Eva's hand, Lailah quickly led the child inside before she used her power to barricade the door with what was left of the furniture before following the blood-stained path to the kitchen.

Eva and Lailah discovered Freya sprawled out on the island counter in the center of the kitchen, Ana desperately trying to stop Freya's bleeding by pressing a blood-soaked towel to her stomach while simultaneously attempting to suppress the bloodlust that was pounding violently in her head.

The young girl felt it too, but she was still in too much shock at the sight of all the blood and the terror from earlier to move. David was on the other side of the island, his hands pressed over Ana's as they both tried to keep the witch intact. She had grown deathly pale, a cold sweat having broken out over her body as silent tears of breathtaking pain continued to move through her in waves.

"Don't you die on me," David kept saying. "You are not allowed to leave me, Freya! I forbid it!"

Lailah watched the man as he struggled to keep himself together, fighting back the tears that were clearly welling in his eyes.

"David, don't be ridiculous," Freya managed, though speaking turned out to be just as painful as breathing. It's amazing how many muscles in the torso move and contract each time her lungs drew in air, she thought to herself.

Still pressing down on the wound with one hand, David took his other arm and carefully wrapped it underneath Freya's head in an effort to make her more comfortable.

"It was him, wasn't it?" the witch whispered. "The one who killed your father?"

"Yes," David said, blinking the tears away.

"I'm sorry I didn't kill him. And now he's going to take me away, too, it seems."

"N-no," David choked, clearing his throat as he pressed harder on her abdomen, desperate to stop the blood from pouring out of her, but it kept coming, pooling around her and dripping over the edge of the counter.

He knew Ana shouldn't be in here, surrounded by so much blood, but he couldn't bring himself to think of that now. All he could see was the life slowly draining out of Freya's eyes and his heart began to break at the thought of the girl he had loved like a sister for so many years fading before him – and there was nothing he could do.

He could hear her heart slowing through his heightened senses as she started to slip out of consciousness and he shook her.

"Freya – Freya, no…"

"Freya, sweetie, wake up," Ana pleaded. "Wake up, Freya!"

But the witch's heart stopped, and though her eyes were still open, David and Ana watched in horror as the light left her heterochromatic eyes.

David buried his face in the woman's neck as the tears fell from his eyes and the silent sobs shook his upper body. Ana moved her blood soaked hands from the wound and took Freya's lifeless hand in hers, kissing it reverently.

Lailah watched on in silence, still unknown to the pair in the kitchen and she felt her heart break.

How could she have let this happen?

She had to fix it – she wanted to fix it.

But she had used so much of her powers already, and without being able to return to heaven to rejuvenate her long-overdue and undercharged batteries, bringing someone back from the dead was a risky thing. Especially when she had another meeting with Dracula tomorrow evening and she had no idea when she'd see Raphael again.

But when Eva's small hand grabbed onto hers, she knew what she had to do. She didn't have to see the child's tear-filled gaze to know.

Lailah gave Eva's hand a reassuring squeeze before she released it, entering the kitchen and making her way over to the lifeless Freya as David held his wife, the two silent as they watched the angel gently caress a lock of hair out of the witch's face. She never said anything – merely hovered her hand over Freya's heart as a beautiful light began to glow from her palm and she moved it slowly down Freya's front, careful not to touch her.

When her hand finally made it to the open gash in the woman's abdomen, they all watched as the skin stitched itself back together, leaving nothing but a thin and barely noticeable scar in its place.

Lailah could feel her nose begin to bleed again, her head pounding like a tribal drum, but she kept her hand hovered over Freya, slowly moving it back up to her heart as her mind reached through a heavenly veil for Freya's soul before thrusting it back down into her body. The impact was intense and it nearly knocked Lailah off her feet as Freya suddenly gasped for air, her heart beating in her chest again as life poured back into her.

The light quickly faded from Lailah's palm as she stumbled back a bit, leaning against one of the counters for support as they all watched Freya sit up. The tension in the air lifted as David, Ana, and Eva tackled the witch with fervent hugs and tear-stained kisses, welcoming her back to the land of the living. Though Freya was clearly pleased to be alive, her gaze soon met Lailah's amidst the commotion and a look of knowing past between them. The witch opened her mouth to say something, but Lailah held up her hand, as if to say, "not right now," and the witch nodded in silent understanding.

"Lailah, your nose is bleeding," Ana pointed out and the angel felt all eyes fall on her as she reached up to wipe the dark crimson away.

"I'm fine," she assured them with a convincing smile. "Is everyone okay?" There were nods all around and the angel sighed in relief, still gripping the counter behind her for support. "Damn, I'm starving. Is there anything to eat around here?" she asked, making her way over to the fridge.

Within fifteen minutes, the counter had been cleaned and sterilized of all blood and soon they were sitting around the island, Ana's peach pie from earlier as the offering in the center. Eva and Ana both were drinking from blood bags as they all told Lailah the tale of their visit from the brutes.

"Well, rest assured, I will be having more than words with the Count tomorrow about this evening's festivities," Lailah concluded when the tale was over.

"I hope you gut him and see how he likes it," David muttered angrily.

"He'll wish I had gutted him when I'm done," she assured him.

"I still can't believe you agreed to meet with him tomorrow," Ana replied. "And for dinner, of all things?"

"He is determined to woo me," the angel explained with a degree of disinterest. "I told him if he left you alone, he was more than welcome to try. But after this evening's stunt, he's going to have one hell of a time."

"What did he want from you, exactly?" David asked.

"He's wants to try and convince me to abandon the side of heaven for his side of the board."

"What do you get in return, if you did in fact agree to that?"

"You better not, by the way," Freya said with a smile.

"Oh, I have no desire to join him. Dracula only acts in his own interest. If it doesn't benefit him, he won't budge an inch. However, he did manage to sweeten the deal which makes it more tempting than I'd care to admit."

"What did he offer you?"

"Your freedom," Lailah said, looking at Ana. "And Eva's, and David's. He also told me about this ancient artifact called the angel stone, or the petram de lumen."

"What is it?"

"The legend says that it is one of the jewels that used to garnish the Holy Grail. Each jewel held a specific power. The petram de lumen is said to possess a power greater than that of the archangels of the highest order, and with powerful enough magic and under the right conditions, that power can be transferred to a single being – or, as Dracula proposed, shared between two persons."

"He wants to share that power with you?" Ana clarified.

"That's what he said."

"You don't believe him, do you?"

"Of course not. But the fact that he and the witch are looking for it makes it a new priority. We need to find it before he does." There were silent nods of agreement. "Also, we're going to need to reduce the radius of the protection spell to just this area," she added. "My power against his witch is not what it used to be."

"I think that would be wise," Freya agreed. "It's better to strengthen a smaller space than to spread ourselves thin. I can add my own reinforcements to this upper level before we retire for the evening."

"I'd appreciate that. So, I think we're all in agreement that we could use some new ground rules after tonight?"

"I think it's safe to say we're officially closed for business," Freya replied, finishing Lailah's thought before she could even speak it. The angel nodded her head in confirmation. "Anything else of interest happen on this date with the devil?"

"Not really – although, I did learn the witch's name. Perhaps that could be of use to us?"

"Who is it?" Eva asked, unaware of the looks that were suddenly passing between David, Ana, and Freya.

"Her name is Myra," Lailah said, and she noted the downcast expressions on the other adults' faces. "Though I gather the three of you already knew that."

There was a moment of tense silence between them and David was the first to break it.

"I confess, I had my suspicions, but I wasn't certain."

"No, but you two knew," Lailah replied, glancing over at Freya and Ana who were exchanging knowing looks. "Who is she?"

"Myra de Winter was my sister," Freya finally said, unable to meet Lailah's gaze.

"Was?" Lailah repeated. "Forgive me, but she seemed very much alive to me."

"Myra has been dead to me since the day she abandoned me for Count Dracula," the witch answered with a note of bitterness as she stood abruptly. "And that's all I'm going to say on the subject. I'll get to work on reinforcing the protection spell," and she exited the room without another word. It wasn't long after that the rest of them left to head down below for the evening to get some much needed rest.


When everyone was safely secured in their rooms, Lailah finally made her way down the hall to her own private chambers. Comforted by the silence and the dimly lit atmosphere, Lailah absently shut the door behind her and began to undress.

Her mind was light-years away as she changed into her thin nightgown and sat on top of her bed, her back pressed against the cool oak of the headboard. She stared blankly at the wall for the next several hours, her mind far, far away.

So far away, in fact, she never did hear the sound of a child's footsteps coming from the hall outside of her bedroom door. She also never saw the door open, not even out of the corner of her eye, for she was lost, deeply immersed in memories that, until this evening, had been long forgotten – of an endless blue summer sky, towering peaks of the Carpathian mountains, lush grass that covered rolling hills, and a woods she had once called home nestled like a river of dark green between the knolls.

She could see him in her mind's eye, that young man of twenty-four, with his dark hair and captivating eyes, so full of love and life and light and all he could see was her.

Lailah closed her eyes, focusing all of her energy on the memory, not just the sights, but the smell of the grass, the heat of the sun on her skin, the taste of his mouth as his lips pressed ardently against hers, both of them so inexperienced, yet so in love it hardly mattered.

She remembered his eager hands, his fingers tangled in her hair, his body pressed against hers as their souls slowly became knitted together with every kiss and tender caress that passed between them.

Lailah felt her heart swell in her chest in fond memory of what had been until the sound of Eva calling her name broke the spell and sent her hurdling back into the cold and harsh reality of the present.

The child was standing in the doorway, dressed in a nightgown and her dark, curly hair slightly matted on one side as if she had been sleeping rather restlessly up until now. Her eyes were pink from what looked like crying and Lailah, forgetting the pleasantness of the long-forgotten memories she had been revisiting, called out to the girl.

"Oh sweetheart," she said with a sorrowful, knowing sigh. "You had another nightmare, didn't you?"

Eva seemed relieved that she didn't have to explain herself and the genuine look of concern in Lailah's eyes sent the child weeping again, big tears streaming down her face as she responded to the angel's silent beckoning by running over to the bed and collapsing in the woman's arms. It had been a long time since she had seen Eva so upset after having one of her usual dreams and she held the girl tightly to her in an effort to soothe her.

"My dear, you need to calm yourself," Lailah insisted. "You'll make yourself ill if you carry on like this." Eva tried to do as she was told, taking deep, laborious breaths as the angel caressed her hair, gently untangling her curls. "Was it the same dream as before?"

Eva nodded silently, but after a moment, she sat up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "This one was different from the others, though," she explained, scooting up on the bed so she could sit beside Lailah who wrapped an arm around her shoulders, continuing to hold the girl close.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lailah asked, not wishing to press the child to revisit what had only moments ago upset her so.

Eva sighed, her voice catching on the sob she was bravely trying to push back down her throat, and having Lailah present seemed to help as the tears stopped and she glanced down at her hand in Lailah's, the angel sweetly caressing her knuckles with her thumb.

"The beginning is the same as before," the child began. "I'm in a cemetery, it seems to go on for miles in every direction. The sun is setting and there's no one there except for me and thousands of tombstones. I walk for some time, reading the names on the graves, when I start to come across names I recognize – mom, dad, and Aunt Freya. At the end of the aisle, there's the large mausoleum with Dracula's name carved into the black stone and the statue of the veiled angel, blocking the door as if to keep something inside. The statue was pointing at the set of stairs off to the side, as usual, and the stairs seemed to climb up into the sky. I start to climb the stairs when I notice the angel is no longer in front of the mausoleum and I can hear the ground shaking down below as something starts to pound against the sealed door."

Lailah felt Eva shudder at the memory and she wrapped her arm more tightly around the girl in an effort to console her. Having the angel there seemed to give the child courage as she continued, her voice trembling in fear as she recalled the things she had seen.

"The door to the tomb suddenly bursts open and there's a fountain of blood that seems to just erupt from down below. It gets everywhere, soaking the graves, swallowing them up until the graveyard is like an ocean and it's starting to climb up the stairs. I try to move faster up the stairs, but my feet are so heavy. The blood reaches my feet and it wraps around my ankles like vines and it starts to drag me down the stairs. I grab onto one of the steps and try to hold on and I'm screaming for help but no one is there. And that's normally when I wake up. But this time… it just kept going."

"What did you see?"

"There's a little island in the ocean of blood with a single grave. I always use to wonder where the angel statue disappeared to, but it was there, lying in front of the grave, broken into a hundred pieces."

"That's disconcerting," Lailah admitted. "Do you remember anything else?"

"After I notice the broken statue by the grave, the ground begins to shake again and the grave breaks open and this blinding light comes out of the ground and shoots high up into the air carrying what looks like some kind of bird or winged-creature up into the sky and when it expands its wings, they're so big, they block out the sun. And just before I can fall into the whirlpool of blood below me, I wake up."

When Eva had finished recounting her dream, silence filled the room as the two mulled over what had been shared, allowing it to settle in the air for a while. Lailah could feel the remnants of darkness from Eva's dream as they lingered in the room like ominous shadows.

"It was only a dream," Lailah said at last, though even she didn't believe the words coming out of her mouth.

Eva had been having the same, or at least very similar, dreams since she was very young, and with every year that passed, they seemed to become more detailed and more portentous. And though Lailah dismissed their significance often for the sake of the young girl, she could not ignore these new details and the feeling of foreboding they left weighing on her shoulders.

"You've just been reading too much, is all. And perhaps listening in on too many conversations about Count Dracula as well," the angel added with a knowing smile. "And I'm certain the events from earlier this evening didn't help."

"Maybe you're right," Eva relented with a sigh, finally starting to feel at peace again and she eased into Lailah, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Of course I'm right," the angel teased. "Although an unmarked grave with a winged creature erupting from the ground – that's definitely new."

"I never said the grave was unmarked."

"I thought you did?"

"No – it had a name or some word engraved into the stone."

"What did it say?"

"Helle."

Eva was already starting to slip back to sleep in Lailah's arms when she uttered the name, missing the brief moment of recognition and horror that flashed across Lailah's face as it dawned on her what, or better who, Eva's reoccurring dreams were referring to. She had had her suspicions for some time now, but the latest development confirmed it.

Her mind shot back to the fateful evening Eva had been born, the prophecy, the vision she had had just before she delivered Eva into the world. Her brain started making connections, startling connections with what her decision to save this child had put in motion, and – more unsettling – what was to come.

Lailah could feel the tears of realization burning in her eyes and she quickly and stealthily flicked them away, forcing a smile on her face so when she spoke, the trembling in her voice wouldn't alarm Eva.

"Helle?" she said at last. "I wonder what that could mean."

"I think I remember reading somewhere that the name means 'holy' or 'blessed,'" Eva answered sleepily, eyes still closed. "Maybe it's the name of the bird that was going to try and save me and I just woke up before it could."

"Maybe," Lailah answered, trying to make her voice sound stronger than how she was feeling in that moment. "Go back to sleep, then, my sweet. And finish the dream. Dream of that bird flying down to save you. Imagine being carried up into the sky, the wind in your hair and the sun on your face…" and she gently continued to caress Eva's hair as she leaned her head back against the headboard of the bed, closing her own eyes as another tear escaped between her lashes and ran down her cheek. "Maybe that bird will save us. Maybe she'll save us all," she whispered.