Greetings my dear readers!

I was going to wait until Monday to share this with all of you (and I can already hear Roux Barcelone laughing in the distance because I can't stick to an update schedule to save my life), but Monday seems so far away, and though I have it in me to be extremely patient in many things, this just isn't one of them. So as my little weekend present to you guys, you'll get this now.

Before you read the newest chapter, I wanted to take a moment and thank all of those who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed earlier this week; and an extra special thanks to my reviewers for your wonderful feedback! - the invisible reader, Scarlet Empress, She-Devil Red, RegencyPoet, Bloodisred, jenny, 12345678910, ForeverACharmedOne, bloodyrose2014, ShadowSpade, the lovely Guest, DreamBubbles, and alexc1209. Thank you for your glorious responses to the last chapter and for your continued support. It truly does mean so much that you take the time out of your undoubtedly very busy lives to not just read, but to tell me what you thought. I have already learned so much from your responses on ways I can improve and things I'm already doing correctly, so thank you! You guys are the greatest!

Also wanted to send out one last huge thank you to my beta - sleepy bibliophile - for her original edits, and an extra special shout-out to RegencyPoet for the sanity check reviews/edits and last-minute fine-tuning on a couple of my chapters before I posted them. I truly admire your attention to detail and can't thank you enough for your assistance.

Forgive any errors that may have been overlooked and enjoy!

X

The Beautiful Killers

Hera kept mostly to herself for the next couple of days. She never would relate the tale of what had happened in the stacks of the late Doctor Frankenstein's library, what she had let Count Dracula to do to her.

She had willingly allowed the vampire to seduce her.

And if there was at least one thing Hera understood with the utmost clarity, it was that she would never admit or tell anyone – upon pain of death or damnation – that she had thoroughly enjoyed every agonizing moment of it.

She'd never confess that she dreamed about it, fantasized about it – about what would have happened if he hadn't stopped, if he had taken it further.

Hera would acknowledge, however, how dangerous Count Dracula truly was. His powers and abilities had always seemed somewhat vague to her, particularly when she had viewed him as nothing more than a myth, a character in a film. But knowing firsthand what he was capable of made her respect him on certain levels. It was very evident that he was not a man to be taken lightly.

In her mind, Dracula was a manipulator of the worst kind – the type of man that would coax and influence, convincing his prey that perhaps he too was enjoying the experience, that the pleasure and enjoyment were mutual, making the situation less ugly than what it actually was. But Hera was certain that he felt nothing at all. It was all an act, an elaborate performance, and the fact that she had fallen so easily for the charade only made the truth more unsettling.

She was finally beginning to fathom the greatness, the vast limitlessness of his influence, particularly his abilities of seduction, and though she was still deeply fascinated by him, she was also much more wary of him now.

No longer did she have a desire to explore the Transylvanian mountains or join Velkan on his encouraged visits to the seemingly empty Castle Frankenstein. That castle wasn't abandoned and Hera was determined to stay as far away from the place as possible.

After a time, Velkan stopped asking her to go up with him to the castle, and sooner rather than later it was as though he had somehow forgotten the entire ordeal of that fateful evening.

One thing he could not forget, however, was the daily intensifying feelings he had for Hera. He hadn't tried to kiss her or anything of the sort since their visit to the castle. In fact, because Hera had acted as though it had never happened, the prince decided to follow her lead and do the same, even if the deprivation only made his cravings stronger. He had tasted of the sweet passions she could inspire, and the man desired more.

Unknowingly to all, the Count was experiencing similar sensations.

He too found himself yearning for the delicious fervor the mortal had incited during their "meaningless" set of kisses. Dracula was convinced that what he felt for the mortal wasn't anything outside of the usual lust, but during those long daylight hours, she plagued his thoughts as he slumbered and he'd awake in the evening parched and eager for another opportunity to partake at the fountain of her lips.

Both men did, and Hera was blissfully ignorant to the precarious situation she had unwittingly placed herself in. For being a supposed genius, the woman had it in her to be terribly oblivious. Hailey had always teased Hera for lacking street-smarts, though maybe ignorance was her best option at present.

Hera spent a good portion of her time in solitude during the next few days, often hidden away in the confines of the Valerious family archives among the stacks of virtually untouched volumes and scrolls, looking for any information on Dracula – perhaps an old journal of a deceased relative that could give her insight into how to deal with the man and monster.

Her study on this particular subject, however, always ended with her fantasizing about the vampire, which in turn led to flushed cheeks, pleasurable knots in her stomach, and a sudden need for some fresh air. She had never felt so violated and manipulated in her life, and as appalling as it was, she could not deny the alarming degree of desire that the undying man had created within her, as if she had been asleep her whole life and was finally on the verge of waking up for the first time – albeit gradually.

Despite the private sexual awakening, everything else about Hera's naturally bright demeanor felt muted, and both of the Valerious siblings had noticed.

By the end of the month, Velkan was planning on taking a group of men from the village up to the Borgo Pass to see if they could locate Castle Dracula within the Carpathians, since no one had heard anything from Boris Valerious in over a month. Although Anna insisted she go with him, Velkan begged her to stay behind, to which she reluctantly agreed. Hera remained silent on the matter, figuring she had no place in this time period and no reason to include her opinion.

So, at long last, the house was left to the women, and the affairs and welfare of the town were placed on the shoulders of Anna Valerious. But with the continued absence of Count Dracula and his brides, the princess was quickly left with nothing to do. The lack of action left the princess to furiously pace the armory in an agitated manner.

The gypsy princess hated idleness, sitting around uselessly and with no mission to accomplish. In truth, she was opposed to free-time in general. She was the type that thrived off of being busy, and with her brother gone and Hera keeping quietly to herself, she had nothing with which to fill her time.

She forced herself to stop pacing as she grumbled in annoyance. What to do… what to do… the princess thought to herself, tapping her fingers incessantly against her folded arms. Anna glanced out at the window. It had to be around mid or late afternoon by now.

Where was Hera during all of this maddening free time?

Since curiosity was the only thing Anna had to explore, she ventured out of the armory and decided to start searching for Hera. She looked in all the usual places: the library, the archives, her bedchambers, and the dining room. That left only one more haunt – the gardens.

In this weather? the princess thought to herself.

Anna, exhaling in defeat, pulled on her coat and headed outside.

It had grown much colder in the past few weeks. The sky was clear every evening, and during the day, it was overcast, blocking the sun from shinning its welcoming rays onto the rather tensed and heavy-laden village. Not so much as sighting a vampire for this long was rarely a good sign.

Anna trudged through the snow, a chilling breeze rustling through her hair.

"Hera?" she called out into the wonderland of ice and snow. She turned the bend towards the gardens.

"I'm over here, Anna!" came the sound of the woman's voice.

Anna narrowed her eyes a bit to see Hera sitting curled up on a stone bench, dressed in a heavy black and burgundy cloak, her hair wrapped up in a pashmina scarf so only a few strands of her hair could be seen, a book in hand… of course. The gypsy couldn't help but smile as she made her way over to the woman who was crazy enough to be reading outside in this kind of weather when there were perfectly good fires blazing within the manor.

Hera looked up from her novel and removed the ear buds from her ears, turning off the music she had been listening to.

"You finally got bored enough to come looking for me," Hera pointed out.

Anna's grin turned sheepish as she rubbed her hands together before thrusting them into her pockets, trying to ward off the cold.

"I'm pathetic, I know."

Hera snapped the volume shut and placed her iPod into the pocket within her cloak as she swung her legs off the seat, making room for Anna to join her.

"What were you reading?" Anna asked, apparently trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

The feeble attempt amused the redhead.

"Frederick Augustus Rauch's Psychology, or a View of the Human Soul." Anna nodded in an "uh-huh" sort of fashion, clearly having no idea who Rauch's was or what sort of things he wrote. Hera took pity on the princess and decided to change the subject. "Besides fighting and hunting, is there anything you enjoy doing, Anna?"

"You make me sound so barbaric."

Hera laughed.

"I didn't mean to. I promise."

"It's alright," she assured the woman and she thought about the query for a moment. "I enjoy music, I suppose. My mother, from what I can remember, used to love it as well. She played the fiddle – something my grandfather had taught her. After she died, my father got rid of the instrument. He disposed of a lot of things that reminded him of her."

"How did she die?"

"I thought you knew?"

"I know she was killed by Aleera, but I'm not aware of the particulars."

Anna stood.

"Do you mind if we go for a walk or something? Otherwise I'm going to freeze."

Hera agreed and followed Anna as they wandered through the gardens and soon the outskirts of the woods that bordered the village itself. As they walked, Anna related the tale of her mother.

"My mother's name was Katarina, as you know. When I was a young child, my father used to say that she was the most beautiful woman in all of Transylvania, and that Aleera became so jealous that she killed her. When I was thirteen years of age, I learned the real story," Anna began, her eyes gazing in front of her in a thoughtful manner as if remembering…

"My mother never really cared for our family's war with Count Dracula," Anna began. "She met my father on one of his many journeys to Rome. She had gone there herself on holiday while my father went to pray for his family. They met, fell in love, and he discovered she was a native to Budapest. He accompanied her to her home and after a few months of courting, they were married and he returned home to Visceria with a new bride.

"Unfortunately, she was also unwittingly thrust into a war between my father's legacy and the Count. My mother was always very sympathetic to both sides. She had done her own research on the Count's history and she pitied him for the way my ancestor, Valerious the Elder, supposedly treated him. My father said she was soft, weak for making excuses for Dracula. Others said she was the most compassionate woman who ever entered this war. And compassion is what killed her.

"She had caught Aleera terrorizing a little girl, a young orphan whose father had just been killed by Marishka and Verona. My mother intervened and Aleera tortured and then finally fed from my mother instead. But instead of sucking her dry and putting her out of her misery, Aleera left my mother alive, feeding her just enough of her own blood to turn her into what my family was struggling to destroy. When my father found out what she had become…"

Hera watched out of the corner of her eye as Anna briskly wiped away the tear that had started to tumble down her cheek and seeing the princess thus moved the young woman. It was clear the ending of this story was too painful to narrate, so Hera finished it for her.

"Your father had to kill her, didn't he?" Hera asked. The princess took a deep breath, getting control over her emotions as she nodded, confirming her suspicion. "Anna, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's alright. I will see her again. We Transylvanians always look on the brighter side of death."

Hera chuckled, recognizing this bit of dialogue.

"There's a brighter side of death?" she mused.

"Of course. It's just harder to see…"

Hera smirked. Oh, all she needed now was an appearance by Van Helsing and everything would be "complete". But they still had a good many months to go before he'd arrive.

After talking rather at length about the war with Dracula, the sun began to sink behind the horizon, the clouds that had been looming overhead all day dissipating in a matter of minutes as a visage of diamond stars appeared in the sky that now resembled velvet the shades of midnight blue, a dark, rich violet, and the deepest black.

Hera was quickly learning that night skies here in Transylvania were infinitely superior to anywhere else she had ever been. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the place, or some secret enchantment, the supernatural forces at work. Whatever it was, she had never seen stars so beautiful.

Eventually, the women decided to eat supper in the village. Although the town itself seemed cold and lifeless from the outside, within the wood walls and behind the filthy glass of the old windows was a warmth and spirit that surprised Hera time and time again. Life had been undeniably difficult for the people of Visceria, and though to a stranger they might appear harsh and depressing, in that moment – in the dead of night ironically enough – they were absolutely teeming with life.

Lively music was being scratched out on the worn strings on a fiddle and thumbed masterfully on a guitar while nearly the entire company sang along to the familiar tunes. Some played cards while others enjoyed the other's company over a hot and savory meal and some of the foulest beers Hera had ever tasted. Laughter constantly rolled throughout the room as jokes were told or people attempted to sing.

The scene was fascinating to Hera.

These people who had lived with death always lingering on their doorstep were so happy and blissful, even with all the losses they had experienced, the tragedies, the heartaches, the horrors. They still chose to smile, to keep on living, and for the first time in Hera's life did Anna's traditional saying truly make sense: There must've been a brighter side of death, because everyone in Visceria could see it.

To Anna, it meant being reunited with her mother, an end to the nightmares that never slept here in Transylvania. To the villagers, it meant an end to the horror. They were all united in a single belief that any shred of light can dispel the darkness. In that moment, as Hera watched Anna dance around and sing with some of the locals, she wasn't their princess. She was their equal.

Hera took another drink of the cooled beer in her mug as she continued to observe the others crammed within the inn. As of right now, they were all singing the most ridiculous folk song Hera had ever heard. From what she could translate, it was about a girl who was so in love with her reflection, one day she looked into a well and fell inside, only to be saved by the boy she had called ugly just the day before.

Hera snickered throughout the entire thing as she listened, Anna having moved back to her seat at the table, still humming to herself.

"Are they always like this?" Hera asked curiously.

"Who? The people? Not always. Though they usually come to life in the evening."

"Clearly."

"So, in your time, are there any crazy folk songs that everyone knows?"

"Of course, but I think the ones in the future are far more scandalous than any of those I've heard tonight. Before I arrived, my generation had developed this bizarre fascination with singing about butts."

"The future sounds so strange," the princess said with a laugh before taking a long drink. "I'm so glad we came here tonight!"

"I can see that," Hera replied with a knowing smirk.

"How do you get your hair to change colors like that?" Anna suddenly asked, taking one of the stray locks that had escaped the pashmina wrap that Hera's hair was tucked away in.

"Hair dye," the young woman explained. "Remember, we had this conversation thirty minutes ago? The marmalade color is pretty much all faded now."

"I like your hair better like this anyway. The other color reminds me too much of Aleera."

"And we can't have that, now can we?"

"It doesn't matter. You're a lot nicer than Aleera is anyway," the princess proclaimed and Hera just chuckled in amusement as Anna got up again, grabbing one of the local village men by the hand.

The pair began to dance about the inn, the company all clapping to the rhythm of their steps before Anna and her partner suddenly tripped over one another's feet, toppling over onto the floor. The room exploded into a fit of laughter.

Anna was drunk.

And drunk-Anna was kind of hilarious.

But, like all happy moments, this one was soon shattered by a shrilling laughter that rang out in the night air like an icy wind, the music screeching to an abrupt halt as an eerie hush fell over the crowd. Every eye in the room began darting about, some looking up at the ceiling while others quickly turned to the windows and doors.

Hera knew that laugh from somewhere, but where, she couldn't be sure. But by the expression on Anna's face, Hera could tell that the princess recognized who it was.

"Oh God. They're here…"

"Who?" Hera asked unwittingly.

It should have seemed obvious, but the alcohol in her system was hindering her usual astuteness. Anna stood up slowly as the villagers all listened to the laughter that echoed in the night. It was almost beautiful – like a siren song, although a tad shrill. The gentleman that Anna had been dancing with earlier, his name she had learned was Aurel, stood up and glanced over at Hera.

"The brides," he whispered, but everyone heard what he said, the two words, as if on cue, followed by that unnerving laughter, now accompanied by two other familiar voices.

"Dracula's brides?" Hera clarified.

Aurel nodded his head solemnly as Hera's gaze turned back to Anna who was staring at the window that led to the outside cold, the glass obscured with fog from the contrasting heat inside of the inn. Anna's eyes were fixed, as though she had seen something.

"Lock the door and close the drapes," she whispered to the innkeeper who immediately obeyed as the villagers huddled together around their warrior princess.

The anxiety and tension in the room quickly became oppressive. Mothers grabbed hold of their children as the men held to their wives, standing in front of them in a protective manner. The barmaids hid behind their customers and all hid behind Anna, their fearless leader.

"Hera," Anna called softly and she motioned for her to join the rest of the group.

The woman was about to comply, but the sounds of the brides just outside the building rang out once more and Hera froze in place when it dawned on her who was laughing. She knew that laugh.

A chill ran down Hera's spine.

"Aleera," she breathed almost inaudibly. The shrill was joined by the sound of another crawling about on the rooftop above them, the voices muted, yet distinguishable. "Marishka…"

Hera's eyes found Anna's, the princess having unsheathed her silver-plated sword, the one that had been blessed by the pope in Rome on one of her father's many visits. Oh, did she silently pray that it would accomplish the purpose for which it had been made: to destroy the devil's concubine – particularly that of the red-haired vampire.

"Can they get in here?" Hera asked quietly.

"Oh they'll get in," the innkeeper said eerily. "They always get in. It starts with that laughter, and then the most deafening silence. And just when you think they've gone…"

Suddenly, the sounds outside the inn ceased and the night became still and silent once more, but the tension in the air was heavy, so heavy Hera was certain she could feel it weighing down on her shoulders, threatening to press her into oblivion. It was maddening, this uneasy quiet. She glanced back over at the innkeeper whose eyes were full of fear.

"They're here," he breathed.

As if on cue, the front door flew open and several of the women in attendance screamed as the wood shattered and went flying across the room.

"Knock, knock? Anybody home?" came a melodious voice from the mist that filled the doorway. It gradually began to dissipate as a woman appeared, dressed in the most evocative gown Hera had ever seen.

The newcomer was certainly beautiful, far more beautiful in person than initially anticipated. The color of her harem-styled attire was that of a deep pink, the shade accenting the fiery orange color of her hair. Her skin was deathly pale, soft and toned, her full, nubile breasts erupting from the front of her indecently low-cut gown, catching the attention of every eye in the room, male and female alike.

She walked with an arrogance and grace that strangely befitted her, like that of her master, her eyes dancing about the room. The bride stopped in the center of the establishment and placed her hands on her hips as a twistedly sensuous smile curved her red stained lips.

"Good evening, everyone," Aleera cooed. "Marishka, dear sister… they're all speechless!"

Another woman entered the inn through the shattered doorway, this one as beautiful as the first, although her attire was far more revealing than that of her counterpart. She was every part the smoldering temptress.

"They must have missed us most cruelly," Marishka purred, standing beside her sister.

Her luscious, wavy blonde hair matched the gold of her attire and the cat-yellow of her glowing eyes. Her toned stomach was a sight to be seen and for the briefest of moments, Hera caught herself envying the female's seemingly flawless physique.

Although each soul in the room knew the danger these women brought with them, that didn't mean that the two weren't candy for the eyes. They were every man's desire, sirens of the soul, molded from the darkest of fantasies.

Just like the Count must be for every woman, Hera silently mused.

Marishka and Aleera noticed Anna within the crowd and both women grinned toothy smiles as their canines extended.

"Hello, Princess," Aleera purred.

Anna stood her ground bravely as the other villagers backed away from the incoming bride, struck dumb with fear like stupid cattle being herded in a barn as Marishka growled at them tauntingly, threatening to pounce at any moment.

"It has been so long, your grace, since we last met," Aleera continued as she moved towards the gypsy princess.

One of the villagers went to run for the exit, the fear and stress becoming too much to bear, but Marishka grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall, knocking the man unconscious before he could obtain his freedom. She laughed wickedly as she stalked over to him, lifting him up as if his dead-weight were no trifle, and she placed him on a table before crawling on top of him, fangs bared.

"Aleera, darling, come feed!" she called. "Verona won't be back for a while longer."

"Fill me a glass, Marishka," the bride replied, her brown irises starting to turn an unnatural violet as she locked eyes with the Valerious in front of her.

Anna raised her sword to strike, but the vampire was too quick. She grabbed the princess by the wrist, knocking her sword out of her grip and holding tight, forcing the gypsy to her knees.

"That's right, Anna… bow to me…" the vampire mocked.

Hera watched as the remaining villagers took the brides' distraction as an opportunity to run for their lives. She, however, remained where she was, having gone unnoticed by the two women. Marishka got off her dead meal after sucking him dry and she licked her lips dramatically before joining her younger sister.

"A pity the master will not permit us to kill you as of yet," Aleera replied sourly.

"But he didn't say we couldn't taste her," Marishka pointed out.

"The master would not approve, Marishka," Aleera stated, but the look in her eyes said otherwise. The way she scrutinized Anna was borderline sexual and it even made Hera uncomfortable. "But what he doesn't know can't hurt him…"

Marishka grabbed Anna by the hair and pulled her head back slowly, running her long finger along the princess' neck, tracing her pulsating jugular.

"Such a beautiful throat, is it not sister?"

"Yes. I can't wait to scar it," Aleera hissed and she went to bite, but a chair collided with the back of her head, the wood smashing to pieces as it hit her skull. The vampire dropped the gypsy princess to the ground in surprise, Anna rendered temporarily unconscious when her head hit the edge of a neighboring table.

Aleera whirled around to find Hera, guilty and out of ideas.

The mortal noticed Anna's sword on the table beside her and she went to grab it, but the bride was much faster. She had the young woman by the throat before she could even reach her arm out and her back was up against a wall. A thought along the lines of "if I had a dollar for every time a vampire tried to choke me" humorously crossed Hera's mind, but it was gone within seconds.

"How dare you strike me!" Aleera growled venomously, her face contorting as the demon took over. "You shall pay for your foolishness!" and she threw Hera across the room and straight into the bar, the human's body colliding with the dozens of glass bottles of alcohols before she crashed onto the floor, smelling like a distillery.

Marishka took hold of the woman next and threw her across the room by her recently freed hair, laughing maniacally when Hera's body collided with a table. The mortal fell once more to the ground, thoroughly bruised and with a couple of ribs possibly broken. Marishka materialized over to Hera before Aleera could and she lifted the mortal up by her hair, the growl that reverberated in the back of her throat reminiscent of a lioness.

"What a pretty thing you are. You must be new," Marishka mused to herself. "Looks like you're not the only redhead around here anymore, Aleera."

Aleera snarled viciously at her sister and Marishka giggled in reply.

"I swear, I've seen your face before, though. What's your name?" the blonde then inquired. Hera cried out in pain when the vampire tugged at her hair to get her to speak. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that…"

Both vampires relished in the mortal's discomfort until something caught their attention – a faint scent that was coming from Hera and it made Marishka drop her immediately as both brides' faces contorted in jealousy and disbelief.

"Aleera, do you smell that?"

Aleera forced Hera to her feet, invading the young woman's personal space as she proceeded to sniff Hera's neck deeply, making her dreadfully uncomfortable. The bride recognized the smell and she snarled in a jealous rage, a look of death in her eyes.

"The master…" she hissed, forcing Hera against a wall, digging her talon like fingers into the flesh of the woman's upper arm. Hera winced and then cried out, but the brides were unmoved by her pain.

"She's the one," Marishka said. "It's been so long since the master had us watch her, I almost forgot what she looked like."

"Her hair is different, too."

"But I thought Verona said she'd be up at the manor? What is she doing here?"

Aleera's gaze held the look of promised death as she glared into Hera's bold, but pain-stricken eyes. She let her fangs lengthen.

"I don't care, but I will not be so easily replaced," the bride vowed and she went to bite the mortal and suck her dry when someone sent her flying across the room, a whirl of white and green moving too fast for Hera's mortal senses to pick up.

It was Verona.

Hera had never been so happy to see the eldest bride of the Count in all her life.

"Do not touch her!" Verona shouted.

Aleera stood up quickly from the rubble of her collision with a table and she sent her superior a deadly look, but Verona only growled, baring her fangs and earning immediate obedience from the youngest bride. When Aleera had finally backed down, Verona returned her attention to Hera, a cold expression on her face, but an apologetic look in her eyes.

"You must forgive my sister," she replied softly, her naturally deeper and sensuous voice reminding the mortal of dark chocolate. "She is a jealous and insecure child and is still learning the difference between the master's wishes and her own."

Verona then turned to Marishka and sent her a disapproving look.

"Marishka, I told you this was not a feeding journey, and the master said so as well. Must you be so gluttonous?"

"But I was hungry!" she whined.

Verona was all ice.

"The master might indulge your inability to obey orders, Marishka, but I will not!" she snapped and the blonde collected herself as Aleera joined her side. The vampires then simultaneously turned to Hera who looked at the three of them expectantly.

"Well, this a pleasure I certainly could have gone without," Hera replied as lightly as she could, trying to make her situation seem less… life threatening. "To what do I owe the great privilege and honor of a personal visit from not one bride of the Count's, but all three?"

"Technically you were only supposed to meet with Verona. Aleera and I were to draw out the princess by attacking the village," Marishka explained.

Aleera, meanwhile, made a face as she openly sized up the human, her scrutinizing discouraging to say the least. She looked genuinely disgusted.

"I don't see what the master wants with her," Aleera replied.

Hera felt something on her shoulder and she looked to see Marishka sniffing her skin, pulling the sleeve of her blouse to one side, exposing her entire shoulder and more of her neck. Awkward.

"His scent still lingers on her skin," Marishka informed the other two and she sent Hera a condemning look. "It's old, but it remains."

"What did he do with you, you minx?!" Aleera demanded, her insecurity very apparent.

"Silence, both of you!" Verona ordered. "The master does as he pleases and neither of you have the right to question him, or do you not remember the philosophies you so readily bestowed on me just a few weeks ago?"

"I just don't understand why he's so interested in a mere mortal when he has us," Aleera replied stubbornly. "Do we not please him enough?"

"Umm, excuse me?" Hera replied, getting the women's attention once more. "Yeah, hi. Uh… as fascinating as I'm sure the topic may be, I actually have no desire to hear about you three and your marital problems with Dracula. I just want to know what the hell he wants from me so we can just get that out of the way and move on with our very separate lives."

Marishka chuckled.

"She's bold, this one. Not even princess Anna is so audacious."

"Or stupid," Aleera added under her breath.

Verona smiled almost approvingly at Marishka's compliment.

"Miss Garret is not intimidated by the master, nor does she fear us and our kind. She is neither for us nor against us."

Aleera, unlike her sisters, however, was not impressed with the human. In fact, she remained fixed in her spot, arms folded condescendingly.

"Then what good is she?"

The eldest bride rolled her eyes and looked over at the younger.

"Aleera, for the sake of my patience and your face, you shall desist this instant or I will sew your mouth shut!" she snapped and the bride's lips pressed into a thin line. Verona then sighed heavily as she took hold of Hera's injured arm and healed it with just her touch, the blood retracing back to the wound, the skin and muscle stitching itself together. "I apologize again for how you've been treated," Verona replied nobly as she then ran her fingers over the damaged ribs below the mortal's right breast, healing the minor fractures as well.

"It's alright," Hera managed. "I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from a first meeting with any of you vampires," she added, rubbing the ache out of her arm as Verona finished mending the cut on the woman's head, licking the blood off her fingertips with a hint of pure sensuality as the plasma swirled in her mouth. "What do you three want?"

"We come with a message from the master," Verona answered.

"A message that he wanted delivered to you directly," Marishka chimed in. "But he doesn't want you to tell anyone else about it."

"Why not?"

"He did not say. But considering the nature of the request he wishes to make of you, one can only assume."

"What does the Count want?" Hera inquired, suddenly wary.

"He desires to meet with you, at Castle Frankenstein the night after next. You're to come alone," Verona explained.

Hera made a face.

Dracula wanted to what? Where? Why? What could have possibly possessed him to…?

"As Marishka explained, she and Aleera were to draw the princess out so I could deliver his message to you in private in order to avoid any suspicions, but as you are here…"

"Makes sense, although I'm not quite sure why he'd want to meet with me in the first place. I have nothing he could possibly want and you can assure him I haven't told the Valerious family anything regarding his secret, nor have I any intention of doing so."

"He assumed you'd respond thus. The master also instructed me to tell you that his last meeting with you has given birth to several questions he desires to put before you personally. He also said he finds the extent of your knowledge and insight stimulating and hopes to create some terms with you on a regular correspondence."

"A regular correspondence?" Hera repeated with evident disbelief. "What, like letter writing?"

"No – in person. Most likely on a weekly basis. Since you insist on staying neutral, he believes that the best way to ensure you keep your word is to divide at least a portion of your time between the Valerious' and himself."

"So my word's not enough for him, then?"

"Evidently," Aleera muttered under her breath.

Hera grew quiet for several extended moments, weighing her options, not to mention grappling with the revelation that Dracula wanted to see her again. It was almost too much to swallow, and the most glaring question in the forefront of her mind at that moment was a resounding why? Why in God's name did he want to see her? Her of all people?

She knew very well that this "he wants to make sure you stay neutral" business was a front for something far more sinister. To make matters even more precarious, Hera also didn't care for the idea of being alone with Dracula again, especially after what happened last time.

She didn't want to endure being mercilessly seduced and left alone and aching again. No way was she going to willingly be his plaything. Over her dead body.

"What is your response?" Verona asked dutifully as all three brides observed the mortal closely, waiting for her answer. Hera managed to straighten up a bit as she regained her composure, the picture of utter poise and serenity, despite the nature of her situation.

"Inform your master that I wouldn't meet with him in private even if he offered me every assurance in world," Hera replied confidently, blatantly refusing his request to the astonishment of all three, yet to the secret pleasure of Aleera who knew her master's temper well enough to know that he wouldn't take to this refusal with grace and kindness… oh no. Her master was not that patient, and especially when it came to insolent mortals.

"Would you also let him know that I think he is a disgusting, chauvinistic, womanizing prick, and I've met my share of pricks before, but that man is a fucking cactus. Oh! And another thing – If he ever, ever tries to seduce me again, I will kick his godforsaken ass!"

Aleera covered her mouth in shock, while Marishka broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter. Verona however, remained dutifully tranquil, although Hera could see the hint of amusement in the bride's eyes.

"You do realize he won't be very pleased with your response," Verona said as Marishka continued to giggle in the background.

Hera just smiled confidently.

"Tell him that if he really wants me to take him seriously, perhaps instead of sending you three out to do his bidding, he could be a real man for once in his life and ask me himself. I'm a human being – not some trained dog that comes running whenever he calls. And the way he treats the three of you is inexcusable – sending you out at all hours, no matter the danger. I understand that he may trust you, but there's a fine line between confidence in a person's abilities and straight-up neglect."

"I'll let him know," Verona said, struggling to hold back her diverted grin.

The bride wasn't entirely sure why, but she was grateful this mortal was foolish – or maybe it was brave – enough to challenge her master, especially considering the plans he had for her. It was refreshing to come across a person who wouldn't take his need for dominance lying down.

Hera may have been a woman out of time, but she was exactly what was needed to check the Count's out-of-control hunger for power.

Sure, the women of the Valerious line had always shown a similar fighting spirit, but theirs had been born out of blind hatred. Hera may have begrudged Dracula for his earlier treatment of her, but she did not despise him in the same way the likes of Anna Valerious did.

It would be an amusing battle of wills, to be sure, and Verona secretly hoped that Hera would give her master a run for his money.

"A friendly piece of advice, one woman to another – don't go wandering outside by yourself for a while… he'll try to catch you off guard," the eldest bride suggested as Aleera and Marishka moved toward the exit.

"Thanks for the warning. I'll be sure to stay indoors then," Hera replied.

"He will not be content with your answer, Hera," Verona warned, but the mortal merely smiled as she leaned against the frame of the door, looking up as the three vampires took off into the sky.

"Good," she said to the night air. "I don't want him to be."

So what do you think Dracula's reaction to Hera's "message" will be? What about his next move? What is your opinion regarding the Count's brides? Does anyone miss Velkan yet? ;)

Would love to hear your predictions and feedback regarding the chapter. Thank you again for stopping by to read and I'll see you in the next chapter!