I apologize in advance for this chapter being rather lengthy. Not as long as it was before the massive undertaking of edits and such, but still, if you struggle with the longer ones, best grab snacks or something.

Forgive the errors and, as always, enjoy!

X

The soft burn of candlelight bathed the restaurant floor in an almost sensuous glow as the sound of tinkling crystal and a sumptuous soundtrack of the piano and cello on the stage caressed the senses. The Count was seated in a private section on the second floor of the establishment, close enough so the beautiful music could be heard, but at a sufficient space to make the place secluded. The table was situated beside a balcony that overlooked the main part of the restaurant down below and it was there the Count stood, his eyes scanning the crowd as a curvaceous lounge singer leaned up against the piano and crooned into the microphone, the jewels encrusted into her slinky red dress catching the light. Behind him, the wall of the second floor was made up of an enormous window that provided a gorgeous view of the city skyline, the light of the moon washing over the floor.

The Count glanced down at the pocket-watch in his hand.

Lailah was fifteen minutes late.

He sighed impatiently when he heard the waiter come up from behind for the fifth time since he had arrived this evening.

"What is it now?" he snapped, turning around so he could send the waiter a malicious glare when he noticed Lailah standing behind him as well and his features instantly softened as his eyes fell on her.

The angel looked positively radiant, her golden locks curled and cascading down her back in a luxurious mass of softness, ears studded with diamonds that glistened when they caught the light, and naked legs that seemed to go on for days. As usual, she wore black, the skirt of her dress ruched and wrapped – and short, the slit in the front revealing just a hint of lower inner thigh.

"Never mind," the Count said with a charming smile. "I see you have my date with you. Bring us a bottle of your best champagne, please."

The waiter nodded in acknowledgement and was about to excuse himself when Lailah revealed from behind her back what appeared to be a bottle of dark red wine.

"Actually, I hope you don't mind. I brought a bit of a peace offering in apology for my behavior yesterday evening," she said with a hint of coyness that he found rather pleasing. "I should not have overreacted as I had."

"No, it is I who should be apologizing to you," he insisted. "I wanted to get a rise out of you and I should not have – not so early in our acquaintance, anyway," he added with a mischievous glint in his eye and he accepted the offered bottle, the tips of his fingers lightly caressing her own. "This is very generous of you."

He nodded to the waiter who silently removed himself, leaving the two alone. The Count graciously motioned for Lailah to take a seat at the table and when he made sure she was comfortable, he joined her.

"I apologize for being late as well," Lailah added as he took his seat across from her. "I was unsure what kind of vintage to get and the wine merchant went on and on about that one, so hopefully it's to your taste."

He examined the label, his eyes widening in surprise.

"This is a very expensive wine."

"Money is no object with me," she assured him.

That seemed to satisfy him and he uncorked the bottle and poured a glass for her and then for himself. He inhaled the aroma, a pleased smile curving his lips as he raised his glass to her in approval.

"To you, my dear, and your exquisite taste."

Lailah smiled flirtatiously and raised her glass to him in acknowledgment before bringing the rim of the glass to her lips, but the wine never touched her mouth as she watched with a devious sense of triumph as the Count drank deeply from his glass, before placing it down on the table with a smile that began to fade when he noticed the wicked expression in the angel's eyes.

"What is it?"

"Did you, by any chance, send Henrik and his men to pay Ana a visit after I left last night?"

The Count suddenly felt a strange pressure that started in his chest and moved up into his throat. His first reaction was to deny her accusation, but he could feel the truth hanging on the tip of his tongue and he quickly realized what she had done.

The look he gave her was positively foul, but she merely smiled in response, unmoved by his wrath.

"The longer you keep the truth in, Count, the more painful this will be for you. I would have preferred to pull it out of you myself – a special gift I have – but Freya wanted to send you her personal compliments. And, well, considering Henrik nearly killed her last night, I could not refuse her the opportunity. She's a talented little witch."

Dracula gripped the edge of the table, preparing to stand, but with a wave of Lailah's finger, he found he could not lift himself and the pressure that weighed on his chest became unbearable, as if someone had taken his heart in their hands and was squeezing the life out of it.

"But back to my question, Vlad – you don't mind if I call you Vlad, do you?" she hummed. "Did you give the order?"

"Yes."

The word was expelled from his lips with a rush of air and his iron grip on the edge of the table laxed dramatically as the pain instantly ceased and relief washed over his face.

"Why did you do it?" was her next question. When he refused to answer, he felt that unbearable pressure on his chest and throat again.

This was intolerable!

He could hardly believe he was being forced to endure such treatment from this insolent woman and the fact that he had walked so willingly and so blindly into her web, and within the first five minutes of their meeting, infuriated him further. When she saw that he refused to answer, she sighed dramatically, dumping the wine from her glass into the tray of ice that was resting on a stand beside the table.

"Come now, Count. If you expect me to seriously consider your offer, I'm going to need to trust you. And since you clearly refuse to be open and upfront with me on your own, think of this as me helping you."

Oh, how he wanted to smack that brazen smirk off of her pretty little face, but it was clear that wasn't going to happen.

Fine, he thought angrily to himself. She can have this round, but the next one is mine!

"I sent Henrik not to harm her. I just wanted to frighten her, remind her that she is not as safe as she thinks and that her act of defiance and betrayal will not remain unpunished."

"You are rather sadistic, aren't you?"

"Only when I'm crossed," he said, his eyes full of promise.

"Oh I have no doubt of that," she said, leaning forward in her seat, her voice low, tone mildly suggestive. "And what will you do to me, once you have your tongue back?"

"I haven't decided," he answered truthfully. "But I have no intention on letting this little stint of yours slide, Lailah. I promise you that."

"Then I better be on my guard, then," she replied.

The waiter arrived with food the Count had ordered before her arrival and then left them to eat their meal in peace. After several moments of self-satisfied silence (at least on her side), Lailah decided to let the real fun begin.

"So tell me about yourself, Vladislaus," she encouraged, leaning back in her plush chair.

"What would you like to know, since clearly I have no choice in the matter," he answered resentfully.

"Tell me about your life as a human – before you became a vampire."

"I was born in a village of no consequence in the mountains of Transylvania in 1422…"

"No, no, no… not the boring stuff. I already know all that. Tell me something that isn't in the history books."

"Like what?"

"Tell me why you hate Valerious the Elder so much."

"He killed my wife."

"I thought Erzsébet leapt from a window and killed herself?"

"She did. But that wasn't the wife I was referring to."

"But the books said you only had one wife."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read."

"What was her name? This first mystery wife?"

"I never said she was my first," he said, albeit a little warily, but she dismissed his suspicions with a wave of her hand.

"A lucky guess."

"I really don't want to talk about this, Lailah," he said and for the first time since she had met him, Lailah saw fear in the Count's eyes. But she would not be swayed and she met his pleading look with a hard glare.

Dracula was accustomed to having his way and getting away with things no man, in Lailah's mind, should get away with. He had consistently underestimated her, always so convinced that he held the superior hand, but he was about to discover – the hard way – that this angel, in her own way, was a force to be reckoned with.

"What was her name, Vladislaus?"

"Helle. Her name was Helle."

He spoke the name with a notable degree of reverence, longing, and an exquisite agony that moved Lailah a great deal more than she had anticipated. It was clear the name caused him pain and she was determined to make him explain why.

"What makes you think Valerious killed her?" she asked carefully.

"Because he disapproved of our union and I refused to ever marry another so long as she lived. She was poor, not of the usual stock, and I was nobility and as his prince and at the time his heir, he did not want my line tainted with what he deemed common blood."

"How did she die?" she asked, despite the evident discomfort this conversation brought him. She sympathized with him, but her desire for the truth, and maybe even revenge, grossly outweighed her pity.

"Please," he pleaded, his voice hushed so no one would overhear him begging. "Ask me anything, but don't ask me about her."

"How did Helle die, Vladislaus?" Lailah pressed firmly.

He tried to suppress the truth, but the agony caused by Freya's spell was stronger than his threshold for the physical pain he was being forced to endure. If they were in private, he would have resisted harder, perhaps. But they were in public – with several hundred of his noblest subjects seated below. They couldn't see their king being played by an angel like a marionette doll.

"I found her in a small cave near a hidden spring she and I often met at when we were younger," he finally said, his voice curt. "The physicians said her heart appeared to have just stopped. They found no traces of blood or poison on her, but they were Valerious' physicians – they could have told me anything he wanted them to tell me."

"Perhaps her heart did give out," Lailah offered. "Did you ever stop to consider that maybe Valerious was innocent?"

Dracula's expression went from utter despair to a hellish rage as if something had snapped within him.

"He was never innocent!" he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "Valerious only cared about his family name and a pure bloodline. Nothing more! He tolerated my relationship with Helle when I was a boy, and threatened me on countless occasions to break off my ties with her. But I refused, and when he found out I had married her in secret, he threatened to take everything from me. And Valerious the Elder was always a man of his word."

Dracula's impassioned speech weighed heavily in the air as Lailah allowed the silence to reign for a moment or two before asking her next question.

"Did you love her?" she asked him.

The look in his eyes said it all and though it was clear his words intrigued her, the angel was impossible to read - all cold indignation and moral rigidity.

"With my whole soul," he answered, sounding as if his heart were breaking in his chest all over again. "She was the only good thing in my life. Understand this, Lailah, I have been fond of, and have even loved, countless women in my time – but never in the way that I loved Helle. She was always the best part of me, my better half. Since the day she was taken from me, I have fought desperately to fill the void her absence has left in me. I've tried everything, and nothing has ever come close."

After he said the words, a look of astonishment marred the features of his face and it was clear to Lailah that he had never before spoken those words aloud until this very moment. She could see in his eyes how vulnerable and humiliated he felt and how uncomfortable it all made him. The hardness in her expression softened slightly in response to his plight, as if a part of her, long forgotten, understood the pain he felt, the pain he had carried alone for so long.

"I am sorry for your loss, Vladislaus" she said, the words sounding far more poignant than he had expected from her, and it made him curious – as if she were apologizing not for his loss or for forcing him to open up like he was, but for something else entirely. But he could feel the sincerity of her apology and though a part of him wished to begrudge her for "poisoning" him, he was strangely grateful for not her pity, but the understanding he saw hidden in her eyes.

There was no notable judgment in her expression, no mockery. He had never talked about Helle to anyone before, at least in this kind of detail, and though the process was painful, in a strange sort of way, with Lailah sitting across from him, the experience felt somewhat cathartic – and he could not resent her for that, as much as he wanted to.

"What was she like?" Lailah then asked, her voice filled with gentle curiosity.

"She was sunshine itself," he admitted, gradually relaxing in his seat now, oddly comforted by her presence and for reasons he could not account for. "Lightly tanned skin from always being out of doors, with long, bright, curly blonde hair and deep blue eyes that were framed by gorgeous dark lashes. She was a wild one – so exuberant and ardent and full of life. Her father had been a noble through birth, so her blood wasn't completely common as Valerious always insisted. Her father had married her mother against his parent's wishes and he was cut off without a penny to his name. He was the most honorable of men, all ideals, that one, and after I lost Helle, I realized that although ideals are nice, they are unrealistic in the world we live in. The world is harsh and unforgiving and if you want to make anything of yourself, you have to be harsh and unforgiving right back."

"That sounds like a Valerious philosophy," Lailah pointed out and the Count, bewilderingly at ease, even chuckled a bit.

"Perhaps it is."

"How did you meet her? This Helle? Did she ever meet your parents?"

"My parents were dead before our paths ever crossed. My father sold me to the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire when I was a small child, along with my brother, Radu. He was killed when I was thirteen, and I lost Radu shortly thereafter. Valerious was the one that saved me and brought me home – only to leave me again so he could defend the country's borders. That's when I met Helle."

"How old was she?"

"Eight years old, I believe – though unlike any child, or girl for that matter, that I had ever met. She was clearly of a lowly station. That much was evident in her manner of dress and unreserved playfulness. But she was also extremely bright and clever, and she had no tolerance for my brutish sense of superiority," and he chuckled to himself, recalling a memory. "She didn't care if I was a prince, but she didn't want me treating her like she was a lesser human being, either."

"Smart girl," was all Lailah said and Dracula smiled fondly, staring down at the table, lost in a reverie.

"She saved me from myself," he said quietly. "So many times. Valerious would drill into my head what I was and what was expected of me, but Helle kept me balanced. I remember one time, I had taken her out riding after one of my lessons. She was twelve at the time, and I was a fresh boy of seventeen – barely a man, though I was convinced I was one. I lost Valerious' prize stallion to a group of gypsies and Valerious was ready to skin me alive, but Helle talked him down. I'll never forget it – she was all charm and grace and serenity – like some kind of noble lady. In the end, her words saved my hide and even soothed Valerious, who could not bring himself to punish her for my mistake. I never looked at her the same after that afternoon."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean up until that point, Helle had always been like a little sister to me – my confidant and best friend. After that, my feelings stopped being platonic. As I watched her calm my step-father, I started to see her for what she was – a beautiful, intelligent young lady who knew exactly who she was."

"And at twelve years of age, no less."

"Things were very different back then," Dracula explained. "Girls her age were often in the process of either becoming betrothed or getting married, at least the ones of nobler stock. A girl became a woman at a much younger age in that time, just as boys were expected to become men younger."

"I'm sure a lot of that has to do with the life expectancy."

"I suppose."

"Did you tell Helle how you felt?"

"Not explicitly, no – and I suppose that was because I didn't fully understand my feelings for her. I promised her that I would never forget what she had done, but she just teased me and insisted that when I returned a war hero and had a harem of wealthy ladies throwing themselves at me, that I'd forget all about her."

"And did you forget about her?" Lailah asked with a smile, as if she already knew the answer.

"Not a day went by in those following five years that I did not think of her," he said gently. "She was my rock, my foundation when I left home with Valerious to go to war against the Turks. She wrote to me every week while I was away – which, now that I think about it was a bit odd considering her upbringing. But she had always been particularly bright and her father gave her whatever she wished. I was the one that started the correspondence, at first because I wanted to prove to her that I wouldn't forget her, but after a time, I found myself looking forward to her letters. I was able to tell her about the war and what I had seen and I didn't have to spare details. She never reproached me and when I did try to hold back information, she always knew I was."

"Seems she knew you very well."

"She did."

"I believe it was around this time you met Gabriel – or as he was known, Van Helsing?" she offered, noting the hint of disapproval that flashed in his eyes at the mention of the archangel.

"Yes – I believe he had already fallen from grace at that time?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"I always found that nickname of his peculiar. I believe it was a Dutch name, loosely translating to 'the application of hell' – rather ironic, really."

"Indeed. Did you tell Helle of Van Helsing?"

"Of course I did. At the time, Gabriel Van Helsing was nothing more than a whispered myth – a heaven-blessed warrior that would come to the aid of men in times of horrible war and conflict and he'd fight for the side of God and truth and righteousness and all of that nonsense. Valerious had him summoned by the Knights of the Holy Order in Rome. I can still remember that grand entrance of his – how he rode in on a white steed, dressed in glittering armor that shone in the evening sun. He saved my life on several occasions during that particular campaign. There was also a time when I was so taken with him, my admiration so great, that I even considered joining him and the Knights of the Holy Order to crusade throughout the world and fight the injustices of evil. Can you imagine?" and he laughed as if embarrassed. "Oh, how naïve I was!"

"What did Helle think of him?"

"You know, that's the curious thing," Dracula said, a slight look of pensiveness in his eyes. "She appeared to approve of him, but I always felt she was reserved during conversations about him – as if there was something Helle knew about Gabriel that she wasn't telling me."

"That is peculiar. So when did you get to see Helle again?"

"I was twenty-two, I believe, when I got the letter from her saying her mother had died," he explained with a new sense of solemnity. "She didn't even tell me her mother had been ill and I came to find out later that she had hidden that from me because she did not wish to alarm me. The instant I received her letter, I begged Valerious to let me go to her so I could comfort her, but he forbade it, saying that though my sympathies with the common folk were commendable, I needed to guard myself because people would start to think I had intentions towards Helle that were contrary to my birthright."

"Heaven forbid."

"I was furious," Dracula explained. "I vented to Gabriel and explained my whole history with Helle and after listening to me rant for a good hour, he offered to cover for me so I could return home for a few days and visit her and her father in their hour of need."

"That was very noble of him."

"Yes, it was. There was once a time when Gabriel and I were genuinely good friends," Dracula replied, a hint of remorse in his voice. "Before our differences, he really was one of the best men I had ever known. A pity he turned out to be a hypocritical brute."

Lailah said nothing on this front, but instead turned the conversation back to the Count's narrative.

"So what happened when you came home, after being away for… was it five years? That would make Helle seventeen, I believe."

"Yes."

"And was she much altered since you had last seen her?"

"I almost didn't recognize her when I arrived home," Dracula confessed, his eyes filled with pleasure at the memory. "When I had left for war, she was still in many ways a young girl, but when I returned home she was a woman – all softness and delicate curves. I had never felt so awkward in all my life. She was still the same Helle, but she wasn't – she was this goddess in rags and I had never felt the kind of deep sexual attraction for any woman that I had felt for her during that visit. The devil... why am I even telling you this?" he abruptly interjected, embarrassed at how much he had revealed and the angel laughed quietly.

"I'd apologize for making you uncomfortable, Count, but I am not sorry. Please continue."

"Lailah, please..."

"As much as I love the idea of you begging, I really must insist. It's for your own good, Vlad. Now, what else about Helle had changed when you saw her again?"

The Count grumbled an oath behind gritted teeth before continuing - and with some strain on his part as the words seem to tumble from his lips without thought or control-

"She was far more trusting of me, so full of approbation and esteem; it left me paralyzed. I spent as much time with her as I could, but her father was always nearby. On my last night, they had me over for dinner in their little cottage which was on our land, and I made her father a promise that they would want for nothing as long as I lived. Her father tried to refuse me, but I insisted that they at least let me do what I could for them for the time being and after some convincing, he relented."

Dracula paused in his narration, a look of soberness in his eyes.

"He called me an honorable man, you know," he continued, suddenly moved. "That was the first time anyone had called me that. He told me that my father – my real father, whom he had been acquainted with all those years ago, would have been proud of me and that he hoped Valerious would someday feel the same."

"Helle's father sounds like a very good man," was all Lailah could think to say and she watched as a look of remorse flashed in the vampire's eyes.

"He was the best of men."

"So you said that was your last evening at home. What happened next?"

"I left early the following morning, but left Helle in the stables with a kiss she had not expected. I think if I hadn't left immediately after, she would have slapped me. I was gone for another year after that and I wrote to her as often as I could until Valerious informed me that we were returning home. I was ecstatic, as I had every intention of proposing to Helle the instant I returned, but Valerious then informed me that I was to be betrothed to another."

"Did you fight it?"

"Of course I fought it! I fought Valerious the whole way home and racked my brain for some scheme that would allow me to get out of my responsibilities so I could be with Helle in a way that was at least honorable. But by the time we arrived home, I had no plan and I felt hopeless, despite the fanfare and the welcome I received upon my return."

"When did you see Helle again?"

"At a feast. She had been called in to assist the help. My eyes found her the instant she entered the room, but before I could approach her, my father was already shoving Erzsébet into my path and her family was overjoyed at the prospect of our union."

"Your first bride as a vampire – Verona – wasn't she related to Erzsébet?"

"Yes, she was her cousin. She was at the feast as well, though she was barely seven years old – a child that I had no interest in."

"Was anyone else of note at this feast?"

"Gabriel arrived, rather unexpectedly, actually," Dracula recalled. "I had never been so relieved to see the man in all my life. He announced that he was at my disposal and I put him to work, either distracting Valerious or the family of my future bride. He even kept Helle company as I was forced to take my rounds. When I was done, I returned to Gabriel to fetch Helle so I could actually spend time with her and he told me she had gone home. I wanted to go after her, but it was impossible and I didn't really get the chance to see her, except for in passing, until almost a year later."

"Why did it take you so long?"

"I had received word from one of my servants that Helle's father had died a few months back and I wondered why nobody had told me. I later discovered that Valerious had forbidden any of the servants to speak of it, which naturally infuriated me, so I made up some excuse to return home for a few months, which actually worked out perfectly because Valerious was in Budapest at the time on business, which gave me the perfect escape, as I was on my own. I came home and found Helle was still living in her parent's cottage."

"Was she surprised to see you?" Lailah asked gently.

"I think so – I think she had assumed I had forgotten her, but I never could have. She asked me why I was there and I told her that I had heard about her father and wished to pay my respects. We spoke for several hours after visiting the resting place of her parents. I came to find out that she was living in the house all by herself, which was completely improper for the time and to this day I don't understand how she managed on her own for that long. I told her that I could provide for her, but she insisted that she was fine, as she didn't require much. We walked for what felt like ages, keeping to the old, familiar paths in the woods until we found ourselves in one of our old spots we used to visit as children – a hidden pool with a waterfall that concealed a shallow cave behind it. We ended up reminiscing about our childhood days, when things were simpler."

"I'm getting the impression that something happened following your trip down memory lane that you're trying to keep from me, Vladislaus," Lailah prompted when he had paused his recitation. The carefully visage of nonchalance over a look of hesitance had clearly not escaped her notice.

"Lailah, this is rather private."

"I don't care. I want to hear it. What did you tell her?"

There was a twinge of irritation in his features, but it melted away the longer he spoke.

"I told her the truth – that I loved her, that I had loved her for some time and I could never love anyone else. I told her that I couldn't marry Erzsébet because I could never love her. I told her that every morning when I awoke and every evening when I went to bed, I would think about the kiss we had shared before I had left for war again and that nothing would make me happier than to worship her with kisses until the day I died."

And then the Count rolled his eyes, covering his face as Lailah's mocking smile sealed his humiliation.

"That's so poetic, your grace," she teased.

"I swear, I will get even with you."

"But not tonight," she laughed. "And how did your beloved respond to your rather clichéd and juvenile profession of love?"

"She burst into tears," was his impatient reply.

"Did you offend her?"

"No – though at first I thought I might have. I had never wooed or made love to a woman before and I had no idea what I was doing or saying. I was a child, Lailah. I was inexperienced, naïve... a v..." but then he paused, a look of horror in his eyes when he realized the word that had nearly escaped his lips. He secretly hoped Lailah had had her fill of revenge, but oh how mistaken he was.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" came that playful lilt.

"If we weren't in public right now..." Dracula growled when he felt that painful tightening in his chest again.

"As adorable as your hollow threats are, Vladislaus, there's a word that is just dying to be uttered from your lips and I'm longing to hear the great Count Dracula admit his sexual prowess wasn't as impressive as it supposedly is now."

There was a dark flirtatiousness in the undertones of the angel's words and it made the vampire curious. She was baiting him - but for what purpose?

"So I was a virgin - so what? Aren't we all beginners at some point?"

"Yes, but having heard the extensive details regarding your reputation, I find it deeply amusing imagining what a virginal Dracula must have been like."

"Please don't ask me what I think you're going to..."

"How long did you last?"

"I don't remember," he said with a huff. "And I never said that Helle and I..."

"I'm not an idiot, Vladislaus. The two of you slept together, didn't you?"

"Does it matter?" he asked, affronted by her presumptuousness, yet strangely at ease with the entirety of this discussion. Even though a part of him felt degraded by the circumstances, there was still that unaccounted part of him that trusted her... and that disconcerted him far more than the revelation of his past did.

Lailah leaned forward, arms resting on the table, one folded over the other.

"Yes, Vlad, it does. And do you know why?" When he refused to answer, she continued. "Because as humiliating as this is for you, there is a small part of you that needs to let this out. You've never told the truth to anyone and though I'm certain I'm the last person you want to be telling any of this to, you need to remember what it feels like to be vulnerable."

He looked up from his hands that he had been examining with keen interest to find that Lailah had a soft smile on her lips and a strange, knowing look in her eyes that simultaneously bewildered and comforted. There was something about this woman that made him feel like he didn't have nearly as much control as he had initially assumed, as if her very presence had set in motion the erosion of his carefully placed armor and try as he might to frantically keep himself guarded, he was helpless to the supernatural forces that surrounded not only her, but the cursed wine that still settled in his belly.

"Tell me the truth, Vladislaus," she requested gently. He wanted to be angry with her, and though his bruised pride certainly was, on the whole he could not resent her. For reasons he could not entirely explain, Dracula found that he actually kind of wanted to tell her about Helle and the sensation was foreign and strange.

"I did make love to her," he answered simply, "though we were both embarrassingly inexperienced." The admission seemed to appease her and she leaned back in her seat, a silent sign for him to continue. "I had seen other soldiers make love to women, and I had been educated in how sex worked, so I suppose in retrospect, it could have been worse. But after that the rest is history, really. We knew what we had done was sinful – for the time anyway – and I loved her too much to let her be taken by another man, so a short time later I married her in secret, despite Valerious' protestations and threats."

"How did he take that bit of news?"

"Not well. He would send me the occasional angry letter or idle threat, but I never took any of them seriously. Perhaps I should have," Dracula added upon sudden reflection. "I had gone to talk to Valerious one afternoon, almost a year later, leaving Helle – who was with child by then – alone at the house. It was the usual meeting with Valerious. He yelled, threw a tantrum really, and I refused to yield to his wishes. I returned home to find Helle inexplicably agitated afterward, nervous even. But in my foolishness, I didn't think anything of it. I made love to her that night as I always did, but there was something different about that evening, something that, to this day, I can't put my finger on. It was as if she knew something was going to happen and she didn't have the heart to tell me. My last day with her could not have been more perfect. By this point in our relationship, I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew exactly how to pleasure her and she came undone beneath me over and over again and there has never been anything I have seen since that was more beautiful than her eyes in those moments. We fell asleep in each other's arms that night, tangled limbs and sheets, and I hadn't a care in all the world."

It was at this point in the Count's narrative that the blissful look of remembrance soon fell from his face as his eyes grew dark with sorrow and then anger.

"As I mentioned before, Helle went missing the next morning. I searched everywhere for her and even employed Valerious in the hunt, such was my desperation. It took us three days, but I finally discovered her corpse in our cave and my entire world shattered around me. Valerious was sympathetic for maybe twenty-four hours and then he carried on, as he always did. A short time later, I was forced to marry the Countess Erzsébet and even though I knew she was from a good family, timid, obedient, wealthy, beautiful, and accomplished, she was not my Helle."

"Did Erzsébet know about Helle?"

"To a small degree, and mostly due to the idle gossip of the servants, and she was sympathetic, but it was clear she did not approve. Gabriel heard of the news and he tried to help. He encouraged me to try and love Erzsébet, but I could not. For a short spell, I though I found myself growing fond of her and I did try what I could to make her happy, but I could not give myself to her the way I had so freely with Helle. I could tell Helle anything and she'd just sit there and listen to me, always looking into my eyes when I spoke and always so wise in her judgments and her advice. There was no timidity in her, no sense of shyness. Erzsébet was like a bashful, naïve child in comparison. For all of her schooling and social graces, she was ignorant and subservient. The complete opposite of my Helle. And though I grew to appreciate Erzsébet's obedience and trust in me, there were moments when her lack of passion drove me mad. No real man with any sense wants a timid wife."

"That certainly explains your extraordinary taste in women," Lailah said in an attempt to lighten the oppressive mood and it earned her a genuine laugh from the Count.

"Yes. I do have a thing for the difficult ones, don't I?"

"I think you're addicted to the chase, Count."

"How true that is. I have always found the actual process of a conquest to be more exciting than the main event of triumph, though that too is it's own reward. But when the lust is sated and the excitement is gone, often there is nothing left to hold one's interest – and so the hunt for a new chase begins."

"That's because the chase is comprised of tension, the promise of exquisite euphoria with little tastes and teases, which makes finally obtaining the real thing all the more beautiful. The chase is what keeps us yearning. And in an eternal life, which inevitably begins to lack any substantial mystery or anticipation, the beauty of true intimacy is often lost. Most people become bored with the effort it takes to form any real lasting relationships and instead become so consumed with an insatiable need for adrenaline and immediate gratification. There are few who really understand or appreciate the beauty and, in a sense, the exquisite agony of sexual tension and suppression."

Dracula, reaching for his glass, which had since been replaced with fresh blood, watched Lailah carefully as she spoke, not daring to interrupt her moment of genuine and unanticipated honesty as she inadvertently confirmed what Azazeal had already told him.

It gave him some wonderful ideas of how to proceed with her in the future, but he quickly tucked them away and changed the subject as to not raise any suspicion. He was, after all, still under a spell, and could not risk Lailah asking him any additional questions regarding his plans for her.

"So what else would you like to ask me, since my tongue is still at present your slave?"

The way he said the words, along with the suggestively wolfish look in his eyes sent a delightful shiver down Lailah's spine and she began to fiddle with the napkin in her lap in an effort to distract herself from how his gaze was making her feel.

"Let's talk about Gabriel for a bit," she said at last. "So he was fallen at the time the two of you met. If the two of you were such great friends, how did you become such strong enemies?"

Ah – he had been waiting for that question!

Dracula settled more comfortably into his chair.

"You didn't have to curse my tongue to get me to tell you that story," he teased, taking another sip from his glass.

"Oh, I know," she replied. "I just enjoy watching you squirm."

"I can't wait to get even with you," he said with a slight chuckle and she responded only with a smile. "Before I begin, I'm curious – what have you heard?"

"Not much," she confessed. "As I'm sure you were told, I was with Azazeal for much of that time and wasn't very involved in what happened to Gabriel. I had only heard that he had fallen and that just when they thought he was going to return to grace, something happened that was so terrible that he fell even farther and eventually, over time, lost his memories, which is when I believe your paths had crossed a second time?"

"Correct. But you never wondered why he fell?"

"Of course I did. But no one ever spoke of it and the most I heard was that it had been a long time coming and that his relationship with you was what put him on the path to a longer period of restitution."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" he asked with a surprised laugh. "Some things never change, I suppose."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that your beloved archangels always seem to refuse to take responsibility for their own poor choices. There's always a scapegoat – if the devil didn't make them do it, someone else certainly did!"

"That's a little unfair," she protested. "Not all angels are like that."

"If you insist, my dear – but Gabriel certainly is. Tell me, how well did you know him back then?"

"Not very well on a personal level. Before he fell, he helped mentor me for a time, but we were never very close. After he did fall, I heard whispers of things, but they were always kind of vague."

"What kind of things did you hear?"

Lailah shifted a bit in her chair. She didn't like talking so openly about her colleagues like this, especially with someone like Dracula – but, then again, what choice did she have?

"He was a short-tempered man, a ferocious warrior who delighted a little bit too much in conflict, and though devoted to the cause of righteousness, he had been struggling with personal doubts for a while."

"The cause of righteousness, you say? Since when did the glorification of violence and bloodshed become synonymous with righteousness? When did betrayal, deceitfulness, and adultery – all in the name of heaven – become excusable behavior for the left hand of God?"

"I'm sure Gabriel had his reasons."

"His reasons!" the vampire exclaimed. "Gabriel Van Helsing's reasons for doing what he did were his own, of that I have no doubt. I can forgive a man for having doubts in his leaders and the cause he has blindly pursued for most of his life. But the things he did – he had no one to blame but himself for his circumstances."

"Why don't you tell me what happened between the two of you, then," Lailah replied calmly and her voice appeared to soothe his temper somewhat as he took a deep, calming breath before beginning his story.

"You have to understand, Lailah, these were very different times. The Turks had been trying to invade our lands for years and violence seemed to be the only thing they would respond to. I won't lie – in fact, I can't lie, even if I wanted to – I loved tormenting the Turks. I thoroughly enjoyed the heat of battle, the stink of sweat, the taste of blood, the adrenaline and the rage that would pump through my veins every time I swung my sword. I was a different man after Helle's death. I hardened myself to the world because dealing with the pain of her absence was more than I could bear. But it was Gabriel who encouraged me to drown myself in that war. War is a man's province, he would say. He insisted that war and battle turns feeling boys into strong men and that if I wanted to escape the pain I felt with Helle's death, I should immerse myself in the fight against evil – that evil being the Turks. So that's exactly what I did.

"And as much as I hated Valerious, I was desperate to please him, to gain his favor again. Not because I cared what he thought, but because I knew the only way I could have my revenge was if I regained his trust before I took everything from him. Little did I know, my exploits and my methods for protecting my homeland came to disturb not only him, but Gabriel as well. And he just left – when I needed a friend the most. Without his guidance, I'll admit, I took things a little too far, and it wasn't long until Valerious started to fear me. He didn't approve of my display of power through the public maiming and impaling of my enemies. The people feared me, and the more power I obtained, the more Valerious abhorred what I had become, never realizing that it was he that created me.

"It wasn't until we had another one of our heated arguments that I blamed him outright for what I was and I told him that I would destroy his entire family – down to his last child – if he tried to stand in my way. That's what sent him to Rome, seeking forgiveness as old men do when they're finally aware of just how mortal they are, and that's when Gabriel came back into the picture. He, apparently, was very close to regaining his standing with heaven, or so I was told, but I didn't care. I had already sold my soul to the devil at this point, having abandoned God the day he refused to give me Helle back."

"What do you mean?"

"After Helle died, I sought out dozens of gypsies, witches, prophets, and sorcerers in an effort to bring her back, even after Erzsébet gave birth to two healthy children. But the result was always the same. Each spell and each ritual ended in failure. I was constantly told again and again that Helle's soul was beyond my reach. Admittedly, I didn't react to the information as well as I could have. Each sorcerer that failed me met the same fate – they were charged with the witchcraft I had coerced them into using and they were brutally tortured and then publicly executed."

"All because they failed to raise the dead?"

"You have to understand, Lailah, I was miserable."

"I do understand that, but that's no excuse for what you did to those innocent people."

"And yet, everyone continues to make excuses for Gabriel. Why are his crimes so much more forgivable than what I have done?"

"What did he do, Count?" Lailah asked with evident patience.

"He fell because he fornicated with a witch in order to learn the details of his future, from what I heard. And, as you have told me, archangels having sexual relations with anyone that isn't an angel is expressly forbidden. He had been paying his dues for almost a century by the time I had first met him and when our paths crossed again, he was close to redemption. The Knights of the Holy Order sent him to Transylvania, and I knew the instant he arrived that he had been sent, more explicitly, by my father to retrieve my head. So I did what any sensible warrior prince would do. I tried to get him to change sides.

"Valerious had started this game and I was determined to beat him at it. So I invited Gabriel into my home, I allowed him to rekindle our friendship, I let him to play with my children, eat at my table, ride into battle with me. I even let him think that he was having a positive influence over me, when all the time it was I who was manipulating him. Over time, I could see the conflict in him as he began to question his quest. I had no idea that the outcome of his quest was to determine the status of his redemption – I thought he had just come, sent from Rome to take care of their 'Vlad the Impaler' problem. I felt betrayed that he would even consider murdering me, so I was determined to either bring him to my side of the board by any means necessary, or I would remove him altogether."

"And what means were those?"

"Every man has a favorite sin, a secret vice they love. Gabriel Van Helsing had two – the first was war. He loved a good fight, something we had in common. The second I discovered quite by accident. He had been a guest in my home for almost five years at this point. Erzsébet and I had become estranged, but I saw the way Gabriel looked at her and how, over time, she too began to look at him. It was almost too perfect. By this point, Valerious had begun to put serious pressure on Gabriel to finish his mission, to murder me. I knew I couldn't trust him, but I needed proof – tangible proof. So I… drove them toward each other."

"How on earth did you manage that?"

"I was bedding one of Erzsébet's ladies in waiting at the time and gave her the tools necessary to open my wife up to the idea of having an affair. She didn't require much persuasion, and when I purposefully went away for an extended weekend, leaving my wife and the man I called friend behind – well, the rest, as they say, is history."

"Did Gabriel love Erzsébet?"

"Honestly? I have no idea. I arrived home early in the middle of the night, making certain Valerious was with me. We found the two of them in my chambers, her legs over his shoulders as he plowed into her like some kind of..."

"I don't need the details, Count," Lailah interrupted, blushing slightly, "just… get to the point."

"Very well. The short version - Valerious was furious and Gabriel was ejected from the house. I had Erzsébet locked away in a tower, denying her requests to see our children. I went away shortly after to deal with a group of Turks that had managed to cross our borders and while I was away, Gabriel returned. I learned after the fact that Valerious had written to him, stating that despite what he had done, the bad blood that ran in me, and in my children as well, was far worse than any crime Gabriel could have committed and that maybe redemption would be easier to obtain if he finished me off, along with my line. He and several knights broke into my house while I was away and they slaughtered every last person in those walls, including my children. Erzsébet was the last one to die, and when Gabriel refused to acknowledge her, she was supposedly so distraught that she flung herself from the window, refusing to be absolved by him before he could drive his sword through her.

"Although I no longer loved Erzsébet, I was still furious when I heard about her death, and the murder of my children. I knew Valerious needed to be stopped, but I was rapidly running out of money and options. Valerious and Gabriel managed to turn my people against me in a matter of months, spreading rumors of how I would hold grand banquets in my castle and then feed my guests the flesh of my enemies, and how I would serve blood instead of wine. I remember hearing tales of wild orgies, or pagan rituals and cultish gatherings where I'd supposedly torture and maim innocent women before brutally raping them to death – all of which were untrue. But Valerious fueled the fire by claiming to be a witness and after Erzsébet killed herself and the rumors spread that she had done so because she could not bear to have her soul knit to mine, my fate was sealed.

"I challenged Gabriel to a duel – the only thing I could do in an effort to salvage what was left of my name, and I lost. Because of an arrangement I made with a gypsy witch, I was resurrected and able to exact my revenge on Valerious, even after he tried banishing me to an icy fortress in the middle of nowhere. But, as they say, the devil had given me wings, and with Gabriel Van Helsing long gone by that point, I focused all of my energy on tormenting Valerious and his ancestors. I don't really know what became of Gabriel between then and when our paths crossed again in 1888. I heard rumors of how his fall and the guilt of what he had done eventually drove him mad, which I suppose would explain the memory loss, but I confess, I never cared. I was too consumed in my pursuit in destroying the Valerious line and preserving my kind."

Dracula paused for a moment to take another sip from his glass and then he sighed heavily as his story came to a close.

"And after centuries of hard work and sacrifice, I finally succeeded in my endeavors – well, mostly. The Valerious line, it would appear, still prevails."

"Thanks to yours truly," Lailah said at last with a bit of a smug grin and she raised her wine glass as if to toast herself.

"Yes, thanks to you," he chuckled, and he lifted his glass of blood to her before taking another drink. "Although, it must have been frustrating for you, trying to keep the Valerious offspring alive with my actively trying to destroy the line you dedicated your existence to preserving."

"Frustrating, yes, but, like you, Count, I do enjoy a challenge."

"Yes. I can imagine how disappointing it is knowing that all that's left of that lineage are the unpromising bastard children of a long-dead legacy."

"Perhaps, but even bastards can be born to greatness," Lailah insisted. "They are the ones that are often underestimated."

"You say that as if you have experience in the matter."

"More experience than you know, Count. I am, after all, technically a bastard myself."

He raised a brow in surprise.

"Is that so?"

"My father was an archangel once. He fell in love with a mortal woman, a witch who also happened to be the wife of a great nomadic warrior. Just because you're born out of wedlock doesn't make you a lesser being."

"Well then, bastard," he said with a hint of teasing in his eyes, "I've told you my story. Why don't you tell me yours?"

"There's not much to tell," she replied. "I was born a nephilim, but instead of being raised as a human, I was taken from my mother's breast when I was but three days old and was raised amongst the angels. I rarely saw my father because he was fallen and growing up, I resented him for my circumstances. I had to work twice as hard as everyone else just to prove my worth, and in many ways, I still have to."

"Because you were the result of adultery or because you're a woman?"

"Probably both, if I am being honest with myself."

"Well," and he grabbed the bottle of wine she had brought and offered it to her, "if you need help with honesty, this could aid you in that."

The two soon burst into a fit of genuine laughter that took both of them by surprise.

"That was rather dreadful of me, wasn't it?"

"Well, let's put it this way – I won't be underestimating you again any time soon," he said, placing the bottle back onto the table.

"You're being an awfully good sport about all of this."

"I'd say it's the wine, but I do believe that little curse you put on it is finally wearing off."

"I hope that doesn't mean we're going to go back to being dishonest with one another," she suddenly confessed. He smiled softly.

"Despite this evening's rocky start, I will admit, you are an excellent listener. And, to continue in the vein of being honest, I've rather enjoyed talking with you this evening, even though there were certainly moments when I longed to wring that pretty neck of yours."

"That's not a hint for me to use the door, is it?" Lailah teased.

"Not at all. There is still so much I long to ask you."

"Like what?"

"Like your involvement with preserving the Valerious line. I have to ask – why is heaven so interested in its conservation?"

"They help to maintain balance," she answered simply. "Valerious the Elder may not have been your father, but he was still your blood – your father's cousin or something, if I remember correctly? The two of you are inherently linked together, and because of this, your fates are intertwined."

"I thought you said you didn't believe in fate?" he replied archly.

"I may not believe in a literal fate, but I do believe in karma – or at least the concept of it. And despite your relatively sympathetic origin tale, Count, you still need to answer for all of your poor choices. I suppose you could say the universe has a sense of humor. You blame the Valerious line for what happened to you. Well, it is the Valerious line that will decide your fate. Besides, would you want it to be anyone else? It's rather poetic really."

"That's one way to put it, though I'm not entirely certain I agree."

"Oh, come now, Dracula. Think of how different your life would be now without the Valerious always there to spice things up a bit."

"Spice things up?" he repeated incredulously.

"I have noticed over time that you have a weakness for Valerious women," she said with a laugh and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do have a weakness for strong, beautiful women – but the Valerious surname is optional, I assure you."

"Are you so certain of that?" she asked. "Perhaps you're also drawn to that royal blood? Or maybe it's that gypsy fire?"

"No. I've had my share of royalty and they don't make any better lovers than those of common blood."

"Then what do you think it is?"

"You know what I'm drawn to? Really drawn to?" he asked. "Their light."

"Now that I find surprising," Lailah confessed, folding her arms on top of the table so she could lean forward. "I always assumed you relished in darkness."

"Make no mistake, my dear, the roots of evil are deep. Irreversibly so in the hearts of men. It is their true nature, their ultimate destiny. I was once God's most devoted warrior, a champion of light, but I fell. When I lost Helle, I fell into darkness, and now, because of the choices I've made and because an angel of heaven destroyed what was left of my light, I am now feared as the Prince of Darkness. Ironic, don't you think? God and his angels turn their faces from me. Even hell itself is too afraid to slink out of the shadows to challenge me because even they understand what you angels clearly do not – I cannot be controlled. I never could. Let's say you succeed, Lailah. Let's say you manage to convince me to let Eva go and she grows under your tutorage and she fulfills her destiny by destroying me. That won't change anything. Because someone far worse will just take my place. Evil will always prevail. It is the natural order. The world is broken and it has abandoned all hope."

"Do you really believe that?" she asked him, suspicious that the effects of the wine had officially worn away by this point, because she could feel that a part of him didn't entirely believe his own words.

"Experience has taught me nothing else," was his answer. "The truth is, Lailah, you and your angels need me. There would be no purpose for you if evil did not exist. There cannot be light without shadow – there must be opposition in all things, in order for there to be balance. I was chosen to be that shadow. It is not a lot I would have chosen for myself if I had known the cost, but there never really was any other choice. I don't pretend to be something I'm not. I embrace who I am," he said, standing suddenly and he offered her his hand.

"And what are you?" she asked, looking up at him, her hands still folded in her lap.

"Right now, I'm just a man who wishes to dance with you."

Lailah looked at his hand and studied it most critically for a moment. The cliché was not lost on her, although secretly she found the large palm and long fingers before her rather tantalizing. Ignoring her better judgment, she accepted his offer and placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her from her seat before pulling her into his arms, leading her into a slow and simple dance as the singer down below started a new song.

"You know, you should embrace who you are as well," he said.

"Who do you think I am, Count?" she asked, following his lead.

"You're such a champion for free will, Lailah, and yet you remain subservient to not just angels, but to men, when you should be revered as their equal – in every aspect. In power and position."

"Whose to say they don't already treat me as an equal?" she asked him, very conscious of how his hand pressed against her lower back.

"If you were their equal, we wouldn't be here having this conversation right now. You would have escaped this city with Eva and Ana all those years ago, instead of being left here to do nothing but hide as you grow weaker and weaker," was his response, and though she wanted to argue with him, she found that she could not… because a part of her knew that he was right. "If you were their equal, do you really think you would be denied the opportunity for the advancement and the acknowledgement that you are clearly worthy of? I've met my share of angels, Lailah and none of them comes close to you."

"See, now you're just trying to flatter me," she said, dismissing his compliments in an effort to distance herself from him, but he would not be written off so easily.

"That's where you're wrong, my dear," he insisted, pulling her a little closer to him so his chest was pressed against hers, their faces dangerously close. He leaned in slightly, his cleanly shaven face pressed against her cheek as his lips brushed against her ear.

"I see the darkness in you, Lailah," he whispered, his cool breath fanning the side of her neck. "I can feel it pulsing beneath that soft, decadent flesh of yours. You believe so much in the potential of others, yet you don't seem to see that potential in yourself. True power doesn't come from embracing just the light. Ultimate power comes from embracing both sides of our nature – the light and the dark – and obtaining a perfect balance between them both." He turned his head to look at their joined hands and he carefully intertwined their fingers together. "Light cannot exist without the darkness, nor can the darkness exist without the light. You are in a unique position, my dear. You have it in you to master both – a flawless union of two pieces of the same puzzle, one fitting into the other to create a perfect whole."

Lailah unintentionally hung on to every word he uttered. The music, the feeling of his fingers entwined with hers, combined with how close he was to her made Lailah feel heady all of a sudden. He continued to whisper in her ear, promises of power, position, and the respect and admiration he felt she deserved and had been denied for so long.

"You deserve to be worshiped and adored like the queen you are capable of being," he continued, the hand that had been resting on her lower back itching to slide just a little lower.

Dracula couldn't explain why, but in that moment, he felt closer to Lailah than he had to any other woman in a long, long time. He yearned for her, not just in the usual sexual sense – though, heaven help him, if they continued to dance like this, she'd probably start to feel just how much – but despite their rocky start to the evening, a part of him was grateful for what she had done. With Lailah in his arms, with her knowing some of his greatest secrets, he felt strangely safe – whole, even; or at least well on his way to becoming so.

And the longer he held her, the more he loved the feeling and it alarmed him.

Fortunately, however, he didn't have to risk being the one to break the spell, for Lailah was the one that finally pulled away.

"I should probably get going," she said, no longer in his arms, though his hand was still holding hers.

She couldn't seem to let go of him. It felt so right, so natural, having his fingers entwined with hers, and it frightened her, the internal acknowledgement compelling her to take a step back so the Count was forced to release her.

"Of course. It is late, and I do believe I have some business to attend to before the evening ends," he answered rather lamely. Lailah nodded in understanding and turned to leave when he called out her name and reached for her wrist to stop her. "Before you go, I'd like to thank you for this evening – cursed wine and all," he added lightly and she smiled, laughter in her eyes. "I'm afraid I won't be able to meet with you again until the following week. I hope that is satisfactory?"

"Of course," she replied. "Will Helena be sending word regarding the meeting place and time?"

"Yes, if that's acceptable?"

"It is."

"Good."

"Well then."

"Well then…"

The two were lost for a moment in the other's eyes, the Count still holding Lailah's wrist as he found himself being pulled into the abyss that was her gaze and for the briefest of moments, he could have sworn he had seen those eyes somewhere else before.

But the ending of the song down below and the gentle applause from the dinner guests interrupted the moment between them as they broke eye contact. Before Lailah could pull away, the Count brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her knuckles in such a way that tied her insides into pleasurable knots.

"Good night, Lailah."

"Good night, Count."

She then excused herself, her eyes fixed on the exit as she battled the urge to turn and look back at him. She could feel his gaze on her as she headed toward the door and it took everything in her to keep from stealing a glance in his direction.

When at last she made it outside, the angel gasped for breath as the cold air smacked her flushed cheeks. She could still feel his lips on her hand, the side of his face against hers, and she wiped the back of her hand vigorously against the skirt of her dress, as if to wipe away the tingles he left there, but they wouldn't leave. It was as though she could feel him all over her, leaving her with a horrible ache at the absence of his touch.

Oh god, help me, she thought desperately before disappearing into the night.

Thank you for stopping by!

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Also wanted to give a huge thanks to Scarlet Empress, invisible reader, Shawny.a, and She-Devil Red for consistently reviewing. You guys are seriously the main reason why I keep updating. I know at least four people out there are enjoying this story - thank you for your critiques and words of encouragement!