Eternal Night (I) Chapter 29: Madame Control-Freak, a van helsing fanfic

Ah, Monday. We meet again.

*hiss*

(ahem) ANYWAY, many thanks to Gerhiel, Scarlet Empress, She-Devil Red, Arwen17evenstar, and cneajna for the reviews over the weekend. Y'all continue to be the absolute best.

I'm admittedly on the fence when it comes to parts of this chapter. If I had the energy, I'd probably spend a couple of hours reworking a few things, but I'm too tired and just dgaf at the moment, so... it is what it is, I guess. Man, I need a proper holiday...

CW: sexually explicit conversations between girlfriends (and Lyra is admittedly a bit of a broken record at the start, but whatever), followed by lots of shameless flirting between a certain not-couple... and some of it gets hands-on/violent, too, so yeah. You've been warned. They're vampires, darling. Pain is foreplay ;)

Chapter 29
Madame Control-Freak

Frankie and Dracula arrived at Carmen's a short time later with little to no conversation between them. There was really no point for it. Frankie was too busy concocting plans of revenge where the man was concerned, and Vladislaus was thoroughly occupied in illicit fantasies that involved taking the aforementioned woman back to his place to just have his way with her. Though he would never actually do such a thing without her consent, that newfound glow of confidence she had recently acquired during their brief encounter with Bernardini made the temptation more pronounced than ever.

There was something divine and untapped in that woman – he could taste it; and the mere thought of the possibilities had him all aquiver in anticipation. But if Dracula was anything, he was in control of himself, and he remained completely aloof as he held the door open for her before following the female into the familiar setting of Carmen's place.

As anticipated, the usual people were present, Rémy and his "posse" in their unofficial back corner as Damon managed the bar, leaving the owner of the establishment with more free time than she knew what to do with. Dracula and Frankie glanced at each other momentarily before going their separate ways, the latter sending the former conspirator's grin before sauntering toward the kitchen where she was instantly greeted by Lyra and Vesper.

Vlad took his usual seat amongst Rémy and the other men, briefly participating in a conversation about the current state of politics until he caught the muted sound of female laughter coming from the back and his attention diverted to the small glassless window between the kitchen and the bar where the women could be seen. Vesper was seated closest to the window, apparently trying to read something and it gave him an idea.

Carefully dipping into the dhampir's mind undetected, he was able to mute Vesper's own thoughts so he could better hear the private conversation taking place between Frankie and Lyra who were seated on opposite sides of the island.

"So I'll take it that things with you and Raul are still going well," Frankie continued, sounding a little surprised. "No word of any side-lovers or the like? Honestly, Lyra, I'm impressed."

"The werewolf is a caliber of man I didn't think existed anymore," Lyra confessed. "I'll be the last to deny that the sex is amazing because let's face it – it is." Frankie chuckled. "But he's turned out to be surprisingly considerate, knowing when to give me space and when to linger. He's not a machine by any stretch, but he's not clingy or possessive either like some men are – you know the kind that always want you around but when you are, they're not even interested in your presence? Raul is confident in himself and he doesn't ever question this casual thing between us, nor does he judge me for not wanting more. Most guys at this stage start expecting things."

"It's refreshing, isn't it?"

"I remember how good Tristan was to you, and now having just a taste of that myself… I don't know how you live without it, Frank," was the reply. Then Lyra reached across the island countertop and gently squeezed the woman's hand. "I wish I could see you in love again." Frankie wore a rueful smile as she tenderly squeezed Lyra's hand back.

"I know," she sighed. "Honestly, there are moments where I find myself missing it – having someone there to hold me, to touch me… I miss being wanted. I've been craving another person's touch for days now."

"I don't blame you."

"Sometimes it gets so bad that a night or two ago, I almost considered calling up Tristan and asking for a one-night stand, no strings or expectations. But thankfully," and she sighed heavily at this, "I came to my senses and reconsidered."

Dracula cringed a little at the suggestion as he continued to eavesdrop. He'd have to find a way to kick that werewolf off the woman's shortlist of "booty-call" options.

"Let's be honest though," came Lyra's response. "It would never be just one night with you two..."

"That's probably true and the devil knows I don't need that kind of drama in my life right now," Frankie agreed, rubbing her left shoulder as she leaned against the counter more. "These bloody hormones. I need to be touched right now."

"What about Leinhart?" Lyra suddenly asked, lowering her voice. "I've seen the way he looks at you and everyone knows that he and Morene are pretty much done. He'd probably say yes if you asked him."

Dracula leaned forward a bit more in the direction of the kitchen, his ears perking up at the suggestion. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Frankie squirmed a bit in her seat and her moment of hesitation told him that she was actually considering it. The thought nearly had him smiling.

"I don't know," Frankie finally responded. "I told you what happened at the office earlier. He barely laid a finger on me and I nearly lost it. I was shaking, Lyra!"

"Yes, yes… I know, though I sincerely wonder why you didn't just go for it. He seems like the kind of man who can at least be discrete."

"That's the problem… he's almost too guarded and secretive for my taste."

"Everyone has their secrets, Frank, and you were even defending him the other night when Carmen and I were saying that exact same thing. Secrets or no secrets, I personally think you should consider it. I know Carmen would be totally against the idea, but that's because she's against the idea of anyone having sex if she's not getting any… and I say that with affection, of course."

"The two of you are very different; I don't expect either of you to understand how the other thinks."

"Point is Leinhart is obviously interested if he's been paying so much attention to you – and you were saying he talks about you to that friend of his."

"I just don't think I could do it… let alone should."

"What about that offer he made you last night?" Lyra pointed out. "I'm not into the whole 'art of hand-kissing' thing like your family is, but if he went all the way with that on you and not Morene, then there has to be a reason. I mean…" and the redhead lowered her voice as she leaned in close. "The man pretty much offered to eat you out."

Frankie smacked Lyra's arm in embarrassment, uncomfortable with the vulgar words being spoken out loud, and she flushed, hiding her face behind her hand.

"I can't believe we're having this conversation right now."

"Oh, believe it, sister. Besides," the woman continued, completely unfazed, "even if you regretted fucking him afterwards, at least you know it would be good. I mean, the tall, dark, and arrogant thing isn't really my type, but Carmen is right – the guy oozes not only sex, but competency."

"You don't even know the half of it," Frankie insisted. "I swear, just having him standing next to me as we pour over maps while planning Vivian's escape, sometimes I lose sight of what we're doing and I just stop to smell him." The woman swore under her breath. "I either need to have a serious talk with the person who sells him whatever cologne he's wearing or I need to have some kind of nasal surgery so I can't smell anything at all anymore."

"Oh Frank, I wish you could hear yourself," Lyra laughed.

"I don't know what to do!" she suddenly exclaimed. "I'm around him all the time and I can't help or fix that. I can't want him, Lyra… "

"And why ever not?"

"You know why. This is too bloody dangerous! I feel so out of control when I'm around him already as it is, and because he's a vampire and Rémy's best friend, the risks are even greater."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. You know why Tristan and I hit it off so well. I could get all that… that lust and pent-up sluttiness out of my system without anyone getting hurt, or… or ending up dead."

"And I suppose it doesn't help with that dream you had the other night, huh?"

Frankie didn't answer. She only nodded her head before leaning back slightly on the stool to stretch her back before pulling her hair out of its twist and running her fingers through the thick, wavy strands.

Dracula watched, almost entranced as Frankie tugged the roots, ruffling her hair a bit before pulling it back up again – something he immediately mourned. His fingers itched to take her hair out of its confines and set it free once more.

"So I think we've come to the conclusion that you need a fuck-buddy," Lyra replied in a business-like tone.

Frankie unbuttoned the first two buttons of her blouse before beginning to rub the space just above her left breast, beneath the collarbone. Though Dracula couldn't understand why she was massaging that particular point on her chest, it made him conscious of the lion-shaped mark over his left pectoral and he scratched it absently, thinking nothing of it.

"Language, Lyra."

"Sorry. A lover," the redhead corrected dramatically. "Now, I need to know what kind of man to look for. I need preferences, likes, dislikes. I have no idea what you're into at the moment…"

"Lyra, you're not finding some random guy for me to sleep with."

"But you need this, Francesca… look at you! I'm only looking after your wellbeing, love. Maybe I could call Tristan…"

"No."

"But why?"

"That wouldn't be fair to him… or me, or anyone, really."

"Fuck being fair! My best friend needs a good ravishing."

Frankie laughed, blushing again.

"I appreciate the consideration, but that is not what I need right now."

"Bullshit. Stop making this more complicated than it needs to be. If you won't call Tristan, I will," and she reached for her phone but with lightning reflexes, Frankie snatched it away.

"You most certainly will not!"

"Give me my phone back, Frankie."

"Only if you promise not to call Tristan."

"But…"

"I'm serious, Lyra," the woman declared. "Promise me."

The redhead relented.

"Fine," she said with a huff. "But I think you're being absolutely ridiculous in not taking advantage of a perfectly acceptable opportunity to unleash some of that pent-up tension of yours. And for the record, fair or not fair, I have it on good authority that he'd say yes if you asked him," and she snatched the phone out of her friend's hand before absently wiping the set of fingerprints from the screen.

"My answer is still no."

"Ah yes, that's right… he's not the one you really want," Lyra stated with a playful grin.

"Doesn't matter what I want, it's not happening. Besides, I don't have time for carnal pleasures. I still have an interview to prepare for and a werewolf princess to save."

"Never a dull moment in your life, is there?"

"Well, as Signore Bernardini said, 'it keeps one entertained.'"

Lyra chuckled.

"I kind of like this man if he can make a mockery of Leinhart to his face and praise you to the stars all in the same breath. Is he attractive?"

"In a matured, silver-fox kind of way, yes. And no, you may not sleep with him. I absolutely forbid it."

"I wasn't going to ask," the woman replied with a twinkle in her eye. "Well, I need to find Raul now. All this talk of sex and your masochistic repression has left me with an itch that needs scratching," and the redhead stood, pulling on her coat. "You going to hang out here some more? Or should I walk you home?"

"No, I think I've neglected Vesper's lessons long enough. Have you finished that chapter yet, V?" Frankie called, turning to look at Vesper.

Dracula panicked and quickly released Vesper's mind, which caused the girl to jump as if startled by something.

"Huh? What?"

"I said: have you finished that chapter yet?" Frankie repeated, moving over toward the girl with a suspicious look. Vesper rubbed her forehead and desperately tried to remember where she was and what was going on.

"No… you gave me the assignment like… five minutes ago."

"No I didn't. You've been sitting there for nearly a half-an-hour. You should have finished…" but then Frankie paused mid-sentence when she noticed from across the bar that Leinhart appeared to be watching them out of the corner of his eye.

The moment her gaze met his, the man quickly looked away, sloppily attempting to appear in conversation with her brother, but she wasn't convinced. Her eyes narrowed as it dawned on her what he had been doing… eavesdropping. Again. She placed a hand on Vesper's shoulder and squeezed it affectionately.

"Never mind, dear. You're right. My mistake. Could you finish that up for me as quickly as you can please?"

Vesper nodded eagerly and started to read as Frankie continued to watch her brother's mysterious friend from across the way.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, Frank?" Lyra called from the kitchen door. Frankie turned and nodded.

"Yes. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Alright. Good night, sister. Behave yourself, Vesper."

"Night Lyra!" the girl called out before quickly returning to her studies.

"Vesper dear?"

"Yes, Frankie?"

"I'll be right back," she replied, her voice nearly a whisper as she exited from the room.

She was soon leaning casually against the counter of the bar, drumming her fingernails over the smooth surface as she watched Rémy and his friends in the far corner of the establishment, a peculiar look in her eyes.

The men were all debating loudly over something that personally she could care very little about, but it wasn't them that intrigued her – it was Leinhart. He sat at the table in is usual place on Rémy's left, wearing a mask of interest but it was so very plain that he was anything but.

"Did Lyra leave?" Carmen asked, making her way over, the query pulling Frankie out of her silent ponderings.

"Yes," came the slightly far away answer. "She just left out the back."

"Undoubtedly to see Raul. I get that the werewolf is good in bed and all but you'd think the woman would take the phrase 'moderation in all things' to heart. Seriously, I'm beginning to wonder if she's some kind of nympho," she ranted, vigorously rubbing the water stains out of a glass mug.

"You're only just now wondering about that?" Frankie asked with an amused glance. Carmen chuckled. "Lyra is a very different vampire from you and I," the woman explained, her focus returning to the man on the other side of the room.

"I know, with her whole ancestry and supposedly being a child of Lilith. Yes, I remember."

"She has a lot of arcane power running through her. I've always gotten the impression that sex is just be her way of keeping herself under control."

"That's some damn good rationalization."

"Either way, you shouldn't judge her for enjoying her sexuality."

"I don't judge. I'm just envious."

"You could always do something about that you know."

"Yeah, in my dreams," Carmen muttered bitterly to herself.

"You're in a rather grumpy mood this evening," Frankie announced, returning her full attention to her friend as she propped her head up with her fist, leaning against the counter.

"No I'm not," the woman insisted. "Lily and Rémy had a huge row earlier before you and Vlad showed up. I'm giddier than a school girl."

"And just as terrible at lying."

Carmen smiled a bit, but never offered a follow-up comment; instead changing the subject.

"So, I never got to ask how your planning with Vlad went."

"Nothing to report. The man is as self-assuming as ever. Then again, he has these rare moments of brilliance that always seem to catch me off guard." She turned her head in a casual manner to glance across the room at him, noting how he too was still watching her out of the corner of his eye. "And other times, he can be inconceivably insipid and obvious," she added, her voice little more than a whisper. "Someone needs to teach that man not to play with fire."

"Huh?" Carmen sent her a bewildered expression, but Frankie never heard her.

"I'll be right back," and she started to make her way across the bar to the tables in the corner where her brother and his friends were seated.

She was greeted immediately by Rémy who waved her over, asking for her advice in where they could hold a rally to protest a piece of legislation recently passed by the council.

"Doesn't the Urmen festival start this week?" she inquired, standing between both Leinhart and her brother.

"The what-festival?" Rémy asked, looking to Danny for some assistance. The man just shrugged.

"It's the festival that celebrates the Urmen – the three female spirits of Fate who, according to gypsy legend, decide our destinies," Dracula explained, looking up at Frankie. "Two of them are considered good spirits, while the third is continuously trying to harm people. The festival is to celebrate the three sisters and to thank and pray for favorable destinies. It starts tomorrow evening at sundown."

"And it lasts for four days, through the weekend," she finished for him, nodding her head once in acknowledgement.

"Oh yeah! That gypsy festival," Rémy exclaimed. "That thing that you have been trying to get me to go to for decades now."

"And you still haven't gone," she reminded him with a smirk.

"I remember now."

"Rémy, I think you may want to consider holding a demonstration during the festival. There will be throngs of people already there, the media will of course be covering it... and now that I mention it," and she held her finger up in a wait-a-moment-like fashion, "Mr. Leinhart, we still need a distraction for Saturday evening, do we not?"

"I thought we were saving Vivian on Friday."

"I have a last minute obligation that I cannot postpone."

"Since when did you have the authority to push our date back?" he asked her, a little affronted that she would make such a crucial decision without consulting him.

"First of all, you are not my superior. I don't have to inform you of everything I do." He opened his mouth to object to that rather impertinent comment, but she had the audacity to shush him. The shock was enough to keep him quiet. "Secondly, it won't make any significant difference when we actually do it. I hate to sound heartless, but I think Vivian will survive one more day. Besides, Augustine will be swamped in setting up spies in search for alliance members. He'll be much more distracted when the festival is in full swing."

Dracula clearly wasn't happy with this decision, but he ended up relenting.

"Does this obligation have to do with that thing you're working on?" came Rémy's hushed query. Frankie only nodded, ignoring his friend's inquisitive looks. "So, you mentioned you needed a distraction for when the two of you break into the palace dungeons. Did you have something in mind?"

"Yes. Does anyone have a piece of paper I could use?" she asked sweetly.

Danny immediately conjured up a scrap of paper and a pen, placing it in the middle of the table as Frankie leaned over, thanking him before drawing out a rough map of Budapest.

"Now, the major activity of the festival on Saturday will be right here, in this district on the east side," she began, perfectly aware that her derrière was a matter of inches from Vlad's face. "Mr. Leinhart and I will be taking the old underground highway from this district in central Budapest all the way up to the north, which runs right into the tunnels beneath the river and then into a line or two underneath the palace."

She drew a few more spheres and lines before straightening, twirling the pen between her fingers like a majorette would a baton as she began to circle the table slowly.

"Where you see the 'X', gentlemen, is where the entrance to the city's old sewer is located. About twenty-five yards north we hit a ladder that leads into a tunnel that runs right below the main dungeon on the west side of the palace. Mr. Leinhart and I will infiltrate the prison, retrieve Vivian and take her back the way we came. But here comes the tricky part…"

Frankie stopped about halfway around the table, reaching over a man's shoulder so she could point at the paper, glancing briefly over at Vlad to find him staring down the front of her blouse as she leaned forward, an absent-minded expression on his face. Much to his astonishment, her bra had a built in harness, the straps crisscrossed over flawless swells of cleavage. Naturally, at the sight, his mind immediately fell into the gutter – thoughts of bondage and edging dancing about in his head.

"Mr. Leinhart, are you paying attention?" Frankie suddenly asked him, turning the focus to him.

He immediately looked up only to notice the sly look in her eyes. Ah, so she was aware of what she was doing, he thought to himself. He couldn't help but smirk back at her, neither ashamed nor embarrassed of his previous ogling.

"Of course; how could I not?"

His underlying meaning was not lost to her, and while it amused her, she gave no indication, continuing.

"The tricky part is escaping unnoticed," Frankie resumed, "Since we can't be absolutely certain that Vivian is still being held in the same cell that aligns with Mr. Leinhart's information, finding her without getting caught could prove a challenge, particularly with the advanced security system they have in this area."

"In other words, if she's not where you guys assume she is, then being discovered while you try to locate her is pretty much inevitable," Danny clarified. She nodded.

"Precisely. And once they know we're down there, we will have maybe five minutes – probably less – to get Vivian out and into the tunnels before reinforcements arrive. What we'll need to do is completely demolish the way we came in so they can't follow after us."

"What Miss Chase is trying to say, gentlemen, is we need to get our hands on some hefty explosives," Dracula translated.

"So where do we come in?" Rémy asked.

"We need you to create some sort of loud distraction at the precise moment the explosives in dungeon go off, so the authorities won't know what hit them and where until it's too late. It will also force Augustine to spread himself thin to investigate both explosions and it'll give us the chance to take out any lingering witnesses in the dungeons. If everything goes according to plan, the explosion should not only block the way we came in, but it should temporarily disable the security system in that entire wing. Once it goes off… they won't be able to call for help until they secure the rest of the prisoners and get back online. By then, we'll be long gone. So, we get Vivian, take the tunnels to the south side, and she'll be home-free and out of our hair before word ever reaches Augustine of her escape."

"If everything goes according to plan," Rémy pointed out. "Do you have any contingencies if this goes awry?"

"Yes, we do," Vlad replied. "Your sister made sure we had at least three back-up plans instated before coming to you."

"She can be exhausting, can't she?" Danny teased.

"That's my girl," Rémy smiled, nodding in acknowledgement to his sister. "So, if I know you well enough, Frank, you want me to blow something up…perhaps in the middle of the festival so there is so much chaos that the council won't be able to find you as you make your escape."

"You know me too well, brother," was her response as she moved over to his chair and draped her arms over his shoulders, resting her chin on the crown of his head affectionately. "You can blow up anything you want, as long as it isn't the parliament building, St. Stephens, or the opera house. And, of course, I don't want any civilian casualties. Just something loud and scary to temporarily distract everyone."

"I think we can manage that. I'll have to make a couple of calls, but we can definitely pull this off. You do realize, though, that Vivian won't be safe in the city. Augustine will blame the werewolves for her escape once he realizes she's missing."

"I talked with Lyra about that earlier," she confessed. "She's headed over to the south side now, but I've asked her to speak with Isabella about possibly sending Vivian to live in Geneva with their cousin's pack until things are safe again. I don't see her saying no."

"I'd recommend calling Uncle Armand so he can get a hold of Alastair to let the pack know. That way they can keep an eye out for her, maybe send someone to meet her part way once she's free."

"I'll do that as soon as I get home."

"Good. It's a solid plan, Frank," and Rémy then clapped his hands once, sitting up in his chair before rubbing his palms together in a scheming kind of way. "Well gentlemen, we have some planning to do. Danny, I'm going to need you to call Kirk. Let him know I'll be dropping by sometime tonight or tomorrow to place an order for some plastics. Unless you would prefer chemical explosives?" and he turned his head to look at his sister. Frankie held her hands up.

"You decide. As long as they go off when I want them to, I have no preference." She then kissed the top of his head before squeezing the back of his neck warmly. "Thanks Rémy."

He smiled, shrugging off her affectionate gratitude before returning his attention to the men in front of him.

Frankie began to saunter away, heading back towards the kitchen when she noticed Leinhart standing up from the table as soon as she reached the door to the hall, following after her as inconspicuously as he could. She smirked, deciding to lean expectantly against the wall in the corridor nearest the back exit before pulling out one of her black cigarettes, lighting it just as he entered the corridor. A devious smile was playing on his lips, his movements calculated, deliberate – like a predator.

"I suppose you think that was terribly clever," he began once he reached her.

"What was terribly clever?" she inquired innocently, the top buttons of her blouse still undone from earlier and she reached behind the opening to rub the persistent tingle out of the dragon mark below her left collarbone.

"You know," was all he said.

"I assure you, I don't," she answered. He took a step towards her.

"You really don't know whom you're dealing with," he said, placing his hands on either side of her, leaning in so his face could be level with hers, purposefully crowding her. The last time he had done this, she had immediately tensed up, uncomfortable with their close proximity.

But now was different.

In this moment, his nearness didn't seem to faze her in the slightest.

"Neither do you," she retorted back, the clove-scented smoke lightly billowing into his face, and though a bit put off, he found himself admiring her newfound sense of brazen confidence.

At last, he was getting to the old Francesca.

"That really is a disgusting habit," he pointed out.

"Mmm, and yet, I don't really care. It's not like its bad for my health. I don't know if you noticed, but we're both dead."

"Or very much alive?" he offered huskily. "Just immune… immortal."

"Living forever sounds so much sexier on your lips," she whispered, bringing the cigarette to her mouth once more, but without warning he snatched it from her hand and flicked it away towards the back door. She sent him a disapproving look and moved to go and toss it outside instead of leaving it to burn a mark on the floor when he placed his hand on her lower abdomen and pushed her back against the wall, keeping her still. "And there goes any nice feelings I had for you," she muttered, but he only smiled.

"You really ought to quit."

"You can't make me do anything."

"Shall we test that theory?" he inquired, their bodies faintly brushing as he looked deep into her eyes.

"Is that a rhetorical question?" came her feisty reply, but the man only chuckled.

"Don't flirt with danger, Francesca. Not when you're unwilling to face the consequences."

The hand that pressed against her lower belly began to move downward at a slow and leisurely pace, but Frankie was quicker than lightning as she grabbed his hand before it could go any farther. She spun him around abruptly, slamming his face into the wall before pinning him there, the offending hand behind his back.

He made a move, ready to retaliate when she lifted his arm up and he felt it pop out of his shoulder. Dracula hissed but took the hint and remained still under her hold, feeling her press her body into his as she whispered into his ear.

"Says the man who really needs to learn how to take his own advice," she replied, voice dripping in venom-laced saccharine. "Always playing with fire, never thinking you'll get burned." She pressed her thigh between his legs from behind, brushing against his manhood as her mouth closed around the gold hoop earring in his ear before gently biting down on the lobe. "That's a little arrogant, don't you think?"

"You're the one to talk," he reminded her, trying so hard to focus on her words and not on the way his cock had awoken in response to the friction of her knee, the feel of her tongue on his ear. Frankie shoved him a little harder, not because he was struggling against her, but only because the power trip left her feeling a little high.

"This is your final warning, Vlad Leinhart, so be sure to pay attention," she explained in a low voice that was more seduction than ire. "Any harassment you send my way, any attempted seductions, any threats, and any more eavesdropping and there will be consequences. Don't think for one second I'm going to just lie there and let you attempt to get the upper hand on me."

"I've always preferred women who aren't afraid to participate," he mocked, but then she lifted his arm up higher and bit down on his earlobe when his shoulder let out another painful pop, proving her point. "Or fight back," he added through gritted teeth. "Oh, I look forward to getting even with you."

"Mmm, please do try," she whimpered suggestively.

"Be careful what you wish for, dragă," he replied, his chuckle dark, the sound reverberating deep in his chest. Then he suddenly whirled around and pinned her to the opposite wall, his hand around her throat, all fang and lust. Her smile was wicked, taunting, inviting… "You brazen little minx," he began, and he leaned in to put an end to this game and just kiss her already, but before he could reach the daring grin on her lips, the kitchen door opened and Vesper's voice came ringing into the hall.

Dracula quickly let Frankie go and distanced himself as the girl appeared.

"Frankie, I finished the chapter!" she announced, the excitement in her voice dying away when she noticed her mentor alone in the hall with Leinhart. The woman immediately composed herself.

"Thank you dear, I'll be there in a moment."

Vesper nodded a bit suspiciously before disappearing back into the kitchen.

The moment she was gone, the two vampires sent one another searing looks before silently parting ways. Dracula exited from the hall first without a word, popping his arm back into place with a look that promised that this wasn't anywhere near over. Frankie dared to curtsy at him before disappearing into the kitchen. When the door was shut, however, her confident smile waned and she released a long and heavy sigh, muttering an oath in her native tongue.

"Frankie, is everything okay with you and Vlad?" the dhampir asked after a moment, concern in her countenance.

The woman nervously gnawed her lower lip for a moment, seemingly lost in thought.

She never did answer her question.

Dracula had been staring at nothing in particular for well over a half-hour now in absolute silence.

The illustrious ivory keys continued to beckon his fingertips as he gazed into the eyes of the reflection cast upon the glossy black of the piano – his reflection. He had always found it amusing how humans believed anything they heard about vampires. From being allergic to garlic to needing to sleep in coffins during the daylight hours. All lies to make staying hidden in society easier.

He continued to observe his likeness in the sleek finish of the grand instrument, but it wasn't himself he saw looking through the polished mirror of wood. Who he saw was Francesca, staring right back at him, with the same smoldering look he had seen in his dreams for days now.

Vladislaus could still feel her sensuous mouth on his ear, her upper thigh pressing between his legs with the front of her hip against his backside as she whispered threats and warnings into his ear. He had never imagined that such insolence would be such a turn on. After the little incident in the bar, he had returned home early that evening in hopes of sleeping off his current sexual frustration, but no rest was to be found. Without his usual outlet, he was forced to endure the tightness in his groin for an uncomfortable amount of time before it finally dissipated with the assistance of an ice cold shower.

At last, he released the breath he had taken in some time ago, freeing the useless air slowly from his otherwise idle lungs before resting his fingers on the cool keys of the piano. The sunlight was starting to color the horizon at a slow and languid pace. He played an elaborate C major chord once through, breaking up each note so it possessed that waterfall effect.

He wasn't in the mood for the usual pieces he played in an effort to clear his mind.

Chopin, Vivaldi, Bach, and Handel would hold no solace for him as they so often had in the past.

He took his left hand and rubbed the growing tension from the back of his neck while continuing to rest his other on the chilled ivory, running the tip of his index finger slowly along the tops of the keys until he reached a high F, then pressing down on the single note slowly, leaving it to ring in the air.

Francesca.

She was the reason he was still up at this hour, the reason he couldn't focus or sleep. A single look from her had the potential to leave his resolve in shambles and memories of the woman were proving just as efficient. Although these recollections were a contributing factor to his current state of consciousness, it wasn't the raison d'être.

The instant he had gone to rest, he had been met with another one of those dreams.

He was having them more frequently now, each one similar, though as his sexual frustration worsened so did the graphic details of their encounters in the dreamscape. Waking up alone in his flat was beginning to become more and more agitating, and what made it worse was when he did see her.

So consumed in this thoughts, Dracula had hardly noticed that he was suddenly playing the instrument before him. It was a song he had never heard or performed before, but it seemed to embody the woman who had inexplicably laid claim to his present thoughts. To any listener, the first notation would be that the song had a dark, enigmatic feel to it. Played gently, it almost brought to mind a soft breeze dancing through the branches of majestic pines on a moonless night – a romantic, gothic lullaby. But as the song continued and the melody repeated, the man's playing took on a different quality.

He had surrendered himself to his imaginings as the music consumed him, pouring from his fingertips with the fluidity of water as the song resonated from the belly of the Steinway Grand, wrapping him in a sheet softer than down. His eyes closed as he lifted his head up and back, wondering what it would be like to have that woman run her fingers through his hair, to have her lips pressed against the skin of his neck or ear once again.

He was so lost in his wonderings and the music they inspired that when the ringing of his phone cruelly interrupted the private concert, his eyes snapped open in surprise, hands pausing abruptly in their ministrations.

The phone screamed again, the flashing lights demanding his immediate attention.

Irritated by the contraption, he rose from the bench and briskly made his way over to the phone, prepared to turn the damn thing off, when he noticed Rémy's number flashing on the screen.

Quickly mastering his impatience, he brought the mobile to his ear.

"Hey Vlad? It's me, Rémy."

"Yes, I know," was his response as he made his way over to one of the lounge chairs nearest to the piano, leaning back into the leather seat.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No. I don't think I'll be getting much rest today. Having trouble relaxing."

"You and me both."

Though I'm sure for very different reasons, Dracula thought to himself begrudgingly.

"Lily has officially banned me from her place," Rémy explained, deciding to get to the point. "And Frankie kicked me out of the flat a while back, as you remember, and I really have nowhere to go."

Vlad took a deep breath before responding, understanding the insinuation perfectly.

"What about Danny's?"

"He lives in a studio apartment. And I've tried living with him before… didn't exactly work out for either of us."

"You mean your sister has kicked you out before?"

"Yes. This is not the first time."

That was an interesting bit of information. He would have to follow up on that later.

"I mean, if you don't have room, I'll obviously look elsewhere, and it won't be permanent. I just need somewhere to camp out for a day or two until I can talk Frankie into letting me move back in. I doubt Lily and I will ever get this thing straightened out completely."

"What exactly happened?"

"It's a long story that requires a couple of drinks."

"You have my sympathy." Dracula hesitated for a moment as he looked about at his surroundings, trying to come to a decision. He sighed, not really fond of the idea of sharing his private space with another person, but Rémy was his friend and if it was only for a couple of days… "I don't see why not. Do you need to be picked up or can you manage on your own?"

"I can manage. Thank you, Vlad. I owe you one."

"I'll hold you to that. In the meantime, I'll text you my address."

"Works for me! See you soon."

Hmmm... I wonder how Frankie will react when she finds out her beloved brother is staying with Vlad. *insert evil laughter here*

Next chapter goes up on Friday! Until then - you know the drill ;) DON'T BE A LURKER! LEAVE A REVIEW!

Oh! And maybe watch Castlevania on Netflix, if you haven't already. I finished up season 4 Saturday evening and was so damn happy/satisfied with that ending (and maybe also a little sad that that show is over). But at least Netflix didn't do me dirty. I appreciate them ending things the way they did. I love me some Alucard, but Team Dracula forever, darling!