A/N: My view of the vampire bite is that biting alone is not enough to change somebody. Otherwise, there would be *tons* more vamps around; a new one would get made every time somebody got hungry. And also, vK would have all his old Gier-girlfriends with him and wouldn't be so sad about them all being dead. Which, as we see, is not the case.

Also: thanks so much to you guys for your comments!

Reve: I'm glad you like my vK! I like him too. Even though he spends this chapter stomping around like a little baby because his plans aren't working out. (But yeah, I like him! Sadly, because the story went in a different direction than I was expecting, I ended up not using my favorite vK/Alfred scene at all. But since I really like it, I'll probably post it up afterwards when the story is done. Hope you enjoy!)

Lady of Pride: I kind of feel bad for Sarah too – she's out of her league when she's up against these vamps!

erik'slittlebird: I know, Herbert's turned out to be much less of an ass than I usually think of him. Weeeeeird.

"Wait! Let me do it," Alfred argued as they both struggled to get through the doorway at the same time. Von Krolock shoved past, ignoring him, so Alfred caught him by the back of his shirt and yanked.

It ripped to the waist. "Agh! Alfred!" He stood blocking the hallway so Alfred couldn't get past. "Now look! Get me something else to wear; I'm not going to chase a young lady guest with no clothes on."

"You don't have to chase her. Just get out of the way and I'll do it."

Von Krolock shook his head. "If one of us knows the castle well enough to play hide-and-seek in it, it is me. And if one of us can smooth things over with Sarah, it is also me. Get me clothes."

Alfred pretended to obey, and headed back into the count's bedroom…

And then, before he had time to think it through and realize it would never work, he made a mad dash for the secret staircase. He took the stairs blindly two at a time, but he wasn't halfway down to the crypt before the count caught up with him to snatch him by the collar. Again they heard cloth tear. Alfred squeaked my shirt!, but was completely overpowered by von Krolock's furious hiss: "How dare you, you disobedient little-!" A harsh yank. "Upstairs." He dragged Alfred backwards up the stone steps, bumping and scraping him along so carelessly that he was bleeding in half a dozen places when they hit the bedroom again. He tossed him to the floor.

"Get up. Get me clothes."

Alfred got to his feet, and took a prudent step back. "Ow. Okay. But listen-"

"Clothes!"

A shove sent Alfred reeling towards the wardrobe… but as soon as he caught his balance he turned back. "Count, listen," he insisted. Von Krolock's lip pulled back to show teeth, but even then he didn't back down. "Look, fine, yell if you want, but first let's go find Sarah," he said firmly. "The longer we wait the further away she'll get, and the more time she has to get in trouble. She's upset, she's not thinking, we have no idea what she'll do. Something could happen to her."

"Something could-?" It was more growl than speech, and Alfred noticed then that the count's eyes were glued to his bleeding scratches.

"Count! Focus." Alfred clasped his hands behind his back; the worst of the blood was coming from one of his elbows. He tried to sound calm. "Okay, I see that you're hungry as well as angry, but we still have to go get Sarah. All right? And then you can do whatever you want, I promise. You can even-" He clacked his teeth "-if you need to."

Von Krolock was taking deep deliberate breaths, and finally a bit of control returned. Come here, he beckoned, and Alfred edged forward just a little. "Are you really so panicked for her?"

"Yes," Alfred insisted. "You don't know her – she's crazy! She's probably run off into the forest already and for all we know, a, a wolf or bear or something is going to eat her. Count, please. Really. We have to find her. I'll worry until we do."

"Very well." Von Krolock moved fast. He tossed his ruined shirt to the floor and was already buttoning the last buttons of a new one before Alfred could even protest that they didn't have time. "Come," he said. He gestured between them. "We will discuss this later. Sarah first." He swept out of the room, fastening his cloak on the way.

"Thank you. Thank you." Alfred hurried after him.

But Sarah had no intention of getting eaten by a wolf, or a bear, or whatever. No thank you. She knew perfectly well it wasn't safe for her to go wandering in the woods; the first time she'd run off to come here alone, Koukol had met her halfway to escort her and she knew it was only pure luck that he'd found her before wild animals did. And just last night, she would never have made it without (silly!) brave Alfred beside her, letting her cling to him, holding a handsome little dagger and declaring in all seriousness If anything comes, I'll hold it off and you get away.

The woods were not safe to wander alone.

Unless, of course, you happened to be a vampire. Because a lot of things were easier when you were a vampire. Including making yourself seem really romantic and passionate, when actually you were as cold as ice and...

She wiped her face but she wasn't crying again,no thank you to that either.

Crying was a waste of time, and Sarah had things to do.

Yum.

Herbert was having vivid dreams.

He'd gone to bed with blood in his mouth and Alfred in his arms, and after a long night of half-formed tasty dream images, the warm body in his arms was stirring and the smell of blood was heavy in the air.

He shifted and parted his lips; someone was pressing a cut wrist to his mouth and this was the realest, most delicious dream he had ever had – and obviously it was a dream because Alfred might like him a little but certainly nowhere near this much.

Shhh he told himself and stopped thinking. If he woke up now it would really be a shame. Instead he abandoned himself to it and just lay still. Floating. Drinking. It was warm, delicious, he thought he might never stop.

"Herbert!" A terrifying jolt and someone was shaking him, waking him up.

"Nnn," he protested, but a soft slap convinced him to open his eyes.

"Herbert. Herbert, is that it? Or is there more?"

"Whuh?" he mumbled, and could feel himself drooling. He moved to wipe it, then stared at his hand. Even in the dim candlelight he could see that it was blood.

The count's little redhead was sitting on his bed, clutching her wrist to her chest, staring at him intently. "Is there anything more you have to do," she pressed, "Or is drinking my blood it?"

"Have to do?" he repeated, and sat up. "Drinking your blood?" He had no idea what she was talking about. Something tasted so good.

"Hello. Herbert." She was waving her unhurt hand in front of his face. "I want you to change me into a vampire. Did you? You drank my blood. Is that enough?"

"I drank your blood," he repeated blankly, and then put it all together in a rush. "Oh dear God the count will kill me." He scrambled away from her, crouched in the corner of the bed, covered his face. "Get away from me. Sarah, get-… get out of here, oh God this is bad, this is… Sarah what have you done?"

He looked up, and saw that she was swaying where she sat. "I told you what I did," she said, and her voice was shaking. "Herbert, I don't feel well now. Does that mean it's working?"

"No, it probably means you cut your wrist and now you're bleeding to death!" he snapped.

"What?"

"You can't just..." He gave up, shook his head, and fell back on: "Sarah, oh God."

"Well do something!" Now she was properly panicked, and her voice rose to almost a shriek. "Hurry up! Change me! What do you have to do?"

"I have to-… it's not-… oh God the count is going to kill me…"

She crawled towards him, unsteady, and he cowered. So she grabbed his shoulders and shook him. Blood was smearing everywhere. "He will kill you more if I die in your bed!" she screeched. "Change me now! Quick!"

He stared at her, still frozen. Horrified. Die in your bed. The count really would kill him if that happened. Herbert, get ahold of yourself. "You're right, you're right," he mumbled, nodding. "All right. Change you. I can do this, I can. Come here." He took her in his arms, hugged her close, and closed his eyes. "I can do this…"

"Do what?" she asked against his shirt.

"Shut up." He had to forget his terror, and forget this horrid little bitch, and get himself in the proper frame of mind. The count, he knew, could somehow get it up at will – he could change old people, ugly people, family members even… but for most, the vampire-making mood came naturally or didn't come at all.

But he could do this. Just this once, somehow, he would manage to force it. Alfred. Think of Alfred.

He let out a slow deep breath and thought of last night, remembered it long and hard, lost himself in the memory. Alfred cuddling against him, wriggling closer in his sleep. Giggling. His blood, the rasp of licking over his hair, the warm body relaxing as he-

"Herbert?"

"Shut up!" he hissed again, knowing he was almost there. A couple images of the little dear blushing, rolling his eyes, trying to sass. And then: bright red, chucking a tie at him Doesn't it embarrass you to have to PAY for this?

Ooh, and there it was. Liftoff. He knew it by the sudden tang in his mouth, and the overpowering urge to clamp down and bite, not even drink but just-…

He yanked Sarah by the hair to expose her neck and bit down, hard. He slurped at her a moment, sloppy, drooling into the wound. She gasped – the teeth hurt, after all – but he only stopped when he felt her jerk and spasm in his arms. NO, her body was saying. DANGEROUS. DO NOT WANT.

It was done.

"Ow," she moaned, weak. "Ow, Herbert please. Are you killing me?"

He shook his head against her. "No. Hush." He waited til he felt in control again; if he bit her again and started sucking more, he might well kill her by accident. "You'll be fine. I've done it." When he was calm, and his own sense of panic had faded and he was sure his head was clear, he pushed her away and laid her gently down on the bed. "You'll probably change fast because of how much I drank. Really, Sarah…" He shook his head and tsked at her. "It's polite to ask first."

Her eyes were rolling back, unfocused. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Then: "It hurts."

"Yes, it… tends to. From what I remember."

"It really hurts." She tried to swallow. "How long?"

"I don't know. How should I know?" He fussed with his hair. "Sarah, I've never even done this before! And the count is going to kill me for starting with you."

It seemed to take her all her energy to shake her head. "He won't know," she murmured.

"Ah yes, because that's going to work," Herbert scathed. "You can just pass yourself off as a human! Why didn't I think of that? I mean, in a few minutes you'll grow fangs and crave blood… and your body temperature will drop and you'll become violently allergic to sunlight… and that charming little heathen necklace you're wearing will burn right through your skin. But of course, I'm sure all of these things will escape the count's notice entirely!" She didn't answer. "Sarah?"

She was out cold, her body still as death while the poison did its work.

And Herbert was alone and covered in her blood, and expected in the study for chess within the hour. "Wonderful," he said aloud. "Just perfect."

TBC.

Next chapter we see why Alfred shouldn't have drawn that moustache. And the count gets his temper under control, and he and Alfred probably make up. Dunno, actually – I haven't written that part yet. But I hope they do.

Let me know what you think so far!