He mingled and spoke to those who acknowledged him and sought to exchange words, but it was in this that he realized how much he had missed in the decades since his imprisonments. Of course when he was last awake, he had made three, but they were young, and more slaves and laborers than equals. These people were far from equals, but they were much older, and had more respect from Dracula than the three previously. His blind obsession and hunting of Mary had detached him from, and excluded him from the contact of others. Even in New Orleans he hadn't sought out those he knew lived there. Back then there was only one thought in his mind, one urge that drove him. Now with Mary gone, and Inara safely in his grasp, he had a chance to speak with the countless scores of vampires and servants that wished to speak with him and understand why he had been absent. They knew that he had been imprisoned yet again, but no one knew why he had stalled his arrival in Rouen and why he had not sought out his children earlier. A quick explanation, that he had unfinished business with the Van Helsings, quickly eliminated any further need for questions about the matter, and all the conversations had subsequently turned to more mediocre and mundane topics. One question though persisted in his mind, never straying far from his thoughts...Where was she?

He could hear her heart beat, but over the thrumming of all the other mortals in the room, it was hard to exactly pinpoint her location. She was in the house still. Anwen and Esmerelda had returned to the ball almost fifteen minutes ago. His gaze immediately fell upon his oldest, who shrugged, silently looking behind him, where the stairs were. She's still up there? She wouldn't think about escaping, her room did not provide and easy route, and with Hayden and Simon, as well as Séraphin keeping their eyes on the various exits... no she wouldn't think or consider escaping. She hadn't attempted during their weeks here... maybe she was quietly growing content with her situation. The vampire smirked, that would be a good sign. Her resilience, though amusing in the beginning, was becoming a trying cause. She was trying to run from her destiny, which no one could do successfully. He knew that better than most...

A quick glance from Esmerelda alerted him, and Dracula turned now to look at the stairs. A smile fell over his features as he politely ceased the conversation with an elder mortal, and moved over to those stairs. Inara was descending, and she was glad that Esmerelda and Anwen had tended to her. She was beautiful, and as she approached the bottom of the stairs, he offered a hand, which she seemed to reluctantly accept. He pushed aside the feelings of offense as he led her deeper into the crowd. Her eyes continued to dart around, as if the entire hall was filled with vampires, which wasn't far from the truth.

"You look beautiful," he said quietly, seeming to jolt her from her thoughts.

"I'm glad one of us thinks so..." Inara muttered under her breath. She didn't recognize a single face in the crowd, and although she had her guesses, she couldn't tell who was a vampire and who was mortal. That made her nervous, she was unarmed in a sea of people that could kill her easily. Her training was overriding her senses, she wanted to run, but that cool grip on her hand prevented that course of action.

"You don't have to fight every comment Inara... it's been a year now... don't you think it's getting a bit old?" Dracula smiled as he pulled her to the dance floor.

"It never gets old if the feelings are still there," Inara stated coldly.

"I thought you were becoming to accept your fate..." Inara looked away from him, but Dracula quickly pulled her close to him, tilting her head up with one finger as he looked into her eyes. "You were better when we were alone... maybe once we leave this place, you will become compliant again."

"We're going to hide in the mountains again?" Inara asked bitterly, causing the vampire to just chuckle.

"In a manner, yes. Do not look upon it with such a distaste. You did not find our last home so displeasing."

"I found the lack of contact displeasing."

"Esmerelda, Simon and the others will come to visit some times. We will not be as alone as before," Dracula assured as he slowly began to lead her to the music. "Don't fret." Inara couldn't help it though, she watched as faces blurred and passed in and out of her sight. That music no more than a dull thrumming in the back of her mind as she just listened to her own heart beat. Would this be the last time she saw mortals again? Her last time in a place filled with life, soon to be replaced with quiet woods, stone and the dead. She wanted to run, to fight her way out, but she would lose. Weaponless, weak from sleepless nights and little food, both of which were her own fault, either way she would be overcome quickly. Taking a deep breath she would excuse herself from Dracula's company, fighting her ways out of the crowd to the edge of the dance floor. From the corner of her eye she could see Esmerelda and Simon walking to her, obviously the vampires did not want to lose sight of her, but in a rush of fabric and wave of people, they lost her in the crowd. In the sea of pulsing hearts, even her own level one was hard to distinguish... but she was still in that room, that the vampires knew for sure.

Inara leaned against the wall, running a hand through her hair, causing a few tendrils to fall on her face, obscuring her vision for a moment, but then again she wasn't really looking at anything. She was tucked away in a corner, columns on either side accented the open dance floor, but this area was not decorated, or even being used. A wayward couple would find themselves back here, but to Inara's fortune, none had done so while she sought solace.

"Go away..." she ordered softly as a pair of black boots came into her view, the pattern on the floor that she had been staring at was now covered in dark leather. "I'll return when I feel better..." she added with a sigh, oh what she would give to curl up in a ball and just sink into that nicely polished marble floor...

"Inara..." a voice barely breathed, and just the tone caught her attention. Her hand trembled for a second as she pushed her hair out of her face, looking up slowly. This man was around the same size as Dracula, his cloths though weren't as rich, those leather boots were hidden under black slacks, which gave way to a white button up shirt and jacket. Inara felt her breath catching as she looked up to dark brown eyes.

"G...Gabriel?"