Here we are, second to last chapter! I have to decide how far to take things in the last one. (You'll see what I mean. :P)

Thank you once again for all the awesome reviews! It's wonderful knowing there are people reading and enjoying - and that I should get the next chapter out as soon as it's done.

I'm already starting to sketch out an outline for my next Castlevania fic. So while this one'll be coming to a close soon, I'll have another one out soon.

Enjoy!

A week had passed, and her voice had yet to return. Isabel was starting to adjust - although she was hardly happy about it. Speaking telepathically to others, instead of aloud, was... weird. But people are pretty adaptable, when you get down to it. The first few days, she'd always forget - open her mouth to say something and be reminded of her new condition every time nothing came out. But each time it happened, it felt just a little less significant. A little less heartbreaking.

What she'd done - attempting to take her own life - there was a price to pay for something like that. This is what it was, it seemed. It was only fair. She'd miss singing - but she sarcastically commented to Vlad that the world wouldn't, so maybe she was doing everyone a favor.

Otherwise, she had recovered from what had happened - and there was no sign of Wraith. Dracula had minions searching the castle, but the man was as elusive as his namesake. Every day that went by was marred with the dread of what was happening to Adam and Eric - trapped with, or inside, that monster. Vlad had vowed to her that he would find a way to safely retrieve her friends. Isabel was anything but an optimist, and she knew, deep down, that no one was getting out of this unscathed. The question was just simply 'how bad.'

She stood on the balcony of his chambers, leaning against the railing - a thick coat wrapped around herself to keep away the cold as best as possible. The freezing air made the perpetual night sky crisp and beautiful - and she could even see the barest hints of aurora borealis at the horizon. The night sky was astonishing in all its glory - with no light pollution to blot any of it out.

But damned if it wasn't freezing.

Tex had described temperatures in the following spectrum, from hot to cold: Fuckin' hot, balls hot, stupid hot, stupid cold, fuckin' freezing, cold as balls, witch's tits cold, and ending with 'what the actual fuckin' dick cold.' Eric had once made a chart for it and taped it to the inside of their van. A little magnet was there for Tex to officially notate the current temperature. This definitely fell into the category of 'what the actual fuckin' dick cold.' The memory of her friend made her smile.

When they had last spoken, Wraith had insisted that he was 'rescuing' her. She believed him. Not that he really was rescuing her - but that he honestly believed the words he was saying. That he honestly thought he was saving her. That was the only thing that let her believe that there was a chance her friends were still okay. Wraith's sick, violent obsession with her seemed to be borne out of some kind of sadistic infatuation.

It was why using her as 'bait' was the perfect ploy.

It had worked once before, after all.

The suggestion was made by Dracula in a meeting with Lyon and several other of his 'generals' a few hours prior. And honestly, she couldn't find fault with it. As little as she wanted to be the worm on the end of the hook, it was the only surefire way to draw the asshole ghost out of the shadows. He wasn't stupid - and knew how to wait them out, it seemed. It looked like she was the only thing that would force the monster's hand. The prize that was too good not to try to snatch at any opportunity.

Everyone else in the room agreed with Dracula. Not because they meant her any direct ill will - but because it was honestly the most logical course of action. Lyon had been the voice of caution - after all, look what happened last time Dracula used her as bait.

'It will be different this time,' Dracula had said, voice dark and heavy with foreboding meaning. Even Isabel had no idea what he had been talking about.

Isabel puffed out a cloud of air, and watched it form into mist in the cold and dissipate. She clutched the coat tighter to herself. She usually hated being cold - but with the warmth of the castle only a few feet away, it made the temporary situation bearable. If not somewhat a little enjoyable.

"You will catch your death in this cold," a voice said from beside her, close to her ear.

Isabel jumped nearly a foot in the air, startled. She would have made a noise, if she could have. She whirled around, and saw Dracula standing behind her, smirking in enjoyment at her reaction.

"I would not linger long," he said. Isabel observed his breath created no mist on the icy winter air. More proof that he wasn't alive - as easy as it was to forget sometimes.

Isabel shook her head, silently scolding him for scaring her, and turned to look back out at the frozen woods. His arms wrapped around her, and she let herself rest up against his chest. He was so much taller than her - it was an easy thing to feel shrouded by him. She felt warmer - but it was just a trick of the mind. He had no body heat of his own.

'It's beautiful out here,' she commented to him. And it was made all the more so, with him there with her. The man who was as cold on the surface as the winter sky - and a raging inferno beneath.

"Indeed," was his simple reply.

They stood there for a long moment, enjoying the peace and quiet. It was Vlad, who broke the silence. His voice was heavy - loathing that he must do so. "Come."

Isabel let out a final puff of air, watching it float away as mist. It may be the last time she watched that happen - and for a moment, it seemed as beautiful as the dancing of lights on the horizon.

She knew what was going to happen next.

A silent understanding had come between them the past few days, as she adapted to his blood in her veins. Little had to be said between them, for better or worse. As he turned from her to walk inside, she followed him.

Stepping through the large doors that lead into his personal library - the blast of warm air that met her face was a welcome one. Isabel walked to the fireplace, glad for the crackling flame that Vlad always kept burning in his hearth. She held out her hands to warm them, and tried to enjoy the moment - even as dread filled her.

A moment later, and he approached her again, this time holding a glass of red wine out to her. She took it, smiled thankfully, and sipped it. Something told her she'd need it for what was about to happen.

She sipped it, and let the wine warm her along with the fire. Gently, slowly - he pulled the heavy coat from her shoulders, placing it on a table nearby. She let him, without turning away from the fire. Isabel tried to swallow her fear of what was about to happen. It meant all things would change - finally, and forever.

His hands settled on her shoulders, trying to comfort her. Once, not too long ago, she would have recoiled at his touch. It would have terrified her. And now, it was one of the few things that gave her any feeling of safety. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and she let herself lean back against him once more. She sipped the wine again, and put the glass atop the mantle over the fireplace. As she did, she felt one of his hands slide slowly across her neck, fingers running gently up her neck to her jaw - turning her head to face him. He kissed her, and she felt his soul, his mind, close to hers.

If she were to die, she would die content like this.

She let him tilt her head away as he ended the kiss, and trailed his chill lips down to the side of her neck. Her own hand reached up to tangle in his hair, as he kissed her skin - feeling flush with the sudden change from the cold air to the warmth of the fire. His other hand was now wrapped around her, pressing her back against him. A moment later, and she felt the familiar sting of his fangs.

She gasped, arching against his arm, which held her to him firmly. A low purr in his throat - the sound of a primal beast feeding, sent a chill through her. He fed from her - lazily, drawing out the moment as long as he could - not wanting to let it end. Savoring it. Savoring her. Knowing it may be the last of her he may ever have.

Finally, his lips left her neck, and he kissed his way up her jawline, and let his teeth graze her ear. His breath was warm now, as he exhaled against her - warmth he had borrowed from her. Vlad kept her on her feet as he settled down into his wingback chair, and pulled her into his lap. She sat sideways against him, and felt lightheaded from the blood loss.

Isabel met his gaze - amber to crimson - and knew this was the end. One way or another. Dracula meant to let her drink his blood for the last time. To make her his 'companion' - immortal, but human. Bound to him, and he to her, for an unknowable time. Or… this would kill her. It would turn the page on this chapter of their time together. Either she would belong to him, or the grave.

Suddenly, she kissed him - not wanting to say goodbye. Not wanting this to be the end. Her red king. Her lord of the darkness. Her lover - her hunter. If she were honest, there was fear in her kiss. Fear of the darkness that would claim her - either way. Either his, or the darkness of death.

Until this moment, she could have been free. Could have run - or been released by him. Could have taken Wraith's bargain, and leave this place. But in a few moments, all that would be gone. Of course, her path had been chosen long ago. There was no leaving him. No forgetting her love for him. But for some reason, the lack of choice scared her.

But the time had come. Now it was time to finish this. Either she would belong to him, and he to her, until she was dust - or she would pass through the cold forest of her soul once more, alone. Isabel ended the kiss, and with a wavering, long exhale - nodded once. She was ready.

Deftly, he undid the top buttons of his shirt and pulled the fabric away, baring part of his chest. A swift movement of a sharp nail, and the red line appeared just at his collarbone.

Isabel lowered her head to the wound, and let herself run her tongue along it. She felt him tense in pleasure, and let out a low growl in his throat as she let her lips press against the cut, and felt the liquid enter her mouth.

It burned her tongue as she tasted it. Her body lurched and twitched - and she reflexively tried to pull away. Subconsciously, she knew it was poison. Like touching a hot burner, she tried to whip away. But his hand was against the back of her head, pinning her to him.

She would have cried out - would have whimpered. She tried. Isabel squeezed her eyes tight, feeling like she was drinking boiling water. It felt like it wouldn't ever end - that she'd burn in this hellfire forever.

But then, the damage had been done. She felt it, tearing through her system like boiling hot wax poured directly into her veins. Thick, molten metal searing through her flesh. Vlad released the grip against her head, and let her straighten up, gasping for air and wanting to tear at her own skin in the pain.

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to cry out - but no noise left her lips as she spasmed in pain. He held her to him, shushing her gently, trying to soothe what he knew he could not repair.

Isabel fought to stay conscious, fought to stay awake as the pain tore through her like a freight train. She knew if she let the darkness take her - she would never surface again. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she silently screamed in the agony of it.

She balled up her fist and slammed it into her thigh - trying to give herself something else to focus on. Trying to force something else through the pain that felt like she had been submerged in boiling water.

'Too hot… please,' she cried to him silently.

He picked her up in his arms - carrying her like she was nothing - and stepped back out into the icy, freezing air of the arctic forest where the castle now resided. The bitter, sub-zero temperatures felt like a blessing now against her. Even if it was a falsehood - even if it was all the work of the poison, it let her think about something other than the burning pain.

She let herself breathe the cold air - slowly, feeling the stinging chill fight for supremacy in her mind. Isabel was trembling - overwhelmed with the burning in her veins and the cold that washed against her.

If she let it happen, she'd be unconscious. If she let the darkness at the edge of her vision step forward, she'd be gone. It'd be so easy, just to… let go. It'd be so easy just to sink into it - away from all the pain, and uncertainty. To join the women in those glass coffins. To be another failed attempt.

But he would be left behind with the pain. He would be abandoned here, while she sought the easy road out. Abandoned with his grief, his loss. Abandoned with his eternity.

The other women couldn't have understood what it meant to him. They loved him, as much as she did - that she knew. But they couldn't feel what it was like to exist - forever - and alone, like he did. They couldn't feel his silent resolve against the agony it was to see everything he had ever loved, fall away to dust.

They couldn't.

But she could.

Isabel knew what she was fighting for. Isabel had seen through to his core - had seen even the stars of his youth that were taken away by the uncaring hand of time. Isabel knew that if she died here, now - he would love again. Someone would love him again. But knew that they would never see him as clearly as she did. They would never know the truth of his soul as she could.

Isabel had to fight. She had to survive.

Gritting her teeth, she shifted against him. She wanted to stand. She couldn't let the pain rampaging through her body consume her. Vlad, unsure at first, put her down, gently - letting her feet touch the stone. His hands stayed at her elbows, ready to catch her the moment she fell.

Isabel stood there, wobbling on her feet just slightly - and let her eyes reopen. She looked down at her hands - and felt her muscles twitch. Everything in her was tense. Grasping his arm, she kept herself from falling as her legs threatened to give out. As he reached out to grab her, she stopped him - she needed to do this. She needed to fight it herself.

Still, the burning threatened to overtake everything. When she looked down, she was honestly surprised to see that she wasn't, in fact, on fire. She shut her eyes, squeezing them tight against the pain.

She felt him shift, and she reopened her eyes to see that he had knelt in front of her - looking up at her pleadingly. His expression - usually one of hatred, sorrow, or darkness - was instead a look of imploring desperation. Astonished, she reached out to touch his face. He grasped her hand in his, and placed a kiss against the palm of her hand. Kissed her palm like it would be the last time he ever did so. Kissed her palm as though his will alone would keep that from being true. His touch was warm - flush with the blood he had taken from her.

"Do not go…" he murmured against her palm.

She felt his mind, his soul. It rushed her like a river - cooler still against the burning pain than the freezing arctic air. Felt his emotion flood over her. Love, anger, the darkness that he would always be.

She clung to that, instead. If something was going to consume her, let it be his fire. And not the grave. She leaned down and kissed him - and he kissed her back, his hands tangling in her hair as he met her embrace.

It was then that her body - spent, exhausted - finally slipped. She felt the ground come up towards her, as his strong arms stopped her descent.

Isabel awoke with a start - and was suddenly very, very confused.

She was standing.

Somewhere.

Fuck all if she had any idea where.

She was standing at the edge of a pool surrounded by columns. The room was a giant domed… structure. It looked almost like a greek temple - but far, far older. It reminded her of the temple she saw in Vlad's mind what seemed like a lifetime ago. The place where he had been made the first vampire - cursed with the blood of the first woman he had ever loved.

This place was just as old as that moment. A heartbeat younger than the king of vampires himself.

The walls soared upwards to a gigantic mural on a massive dome overhead. The mural was that of the castle - a sprawling panorama of pointed spires and visages of death and torture, all with Dracula at its center. Standing, resplendent in all his horror, king of the carnage around him.

Lest you forget. That is the monster to which your soul is now bound.

The words weren't hers - but they echoed in her mind like they were.

Looking down at the black pool at her feet - she realized that the liquid… wasn't black. Nearly, but just the barest hints of crimson reflected in the light. Oh. Now she knew where she was. Isabel let out a sigh. Great. "Hello," she greeted 'it.' Here, in her dream, she still had her voice.

Isabel took two steps back as the figure of Vlad - or rather, the castle's manifestation of him - formed from the pool of blood in front of her in mid-stride, stepping from the viscous liquid and stopping in front of her. White hair, dour expression, and the garbs of a king, in shades of red.

"I know," she responded to its comment. "I don't pretend to not know who - and what - he is." Isabel wanted to look up at the mural again - but didn't dare to, with the castle itself standing before her.

Vlad was capable of unspeakable evil. Isabel knew he was twisted - that the horrors she had seen in the castle, and the ones she hadn't, were the product of his warped mind. He had killed countless thousands of people. He would do so again, one day.

And yet, one way or another… she loved him. God help her, she did. Just because he was all those things - didn't mean that it was all he was. The king of vampires was far, far more complex than that.

"And if he were to wage war upon the living of the earth?" the castle spoke, glaring down at her, interrupting her train of thought.

"I'd council against it. I'd try to convince him otherwise. But the decision is his to make…" Isabel shook her head. "I don't want to change him. I told you that. But this pointless, endless cycle of hate you're on isn't going to work. Do you even know what you want anymore?"

"We wish for the master to be what he is meant to be. We seek to give him all that he wishes."

"Which is what, exactly?" Isabel folded her arms across her chest. She was sick of being intimidated. The figure of the castle's jaw twitched, as it sought for an answer it couldn't find. So she pressed the subject. "Tell me what Vlad wants. What he really needs in order to be happy."

The castle straightened up, bristling at being caught in its own line of logic. It gripped the edges of its vest and pulled downwards, straightening the fabric, attempting to regain some manner of dignity. "... We have come to… apologize. Our threats were rash. Now, we must come to an understanding if we are to coexist in service to the master."

It said the words as if it expected her to burst into laughter. It glared, angrily down at her through Vlad's face, already anticipating her mockery. Instead, Isabel simply nodded, smiled, and held out her hand. 'Never meet and olive branch with a fist,' her adoptive mother had taught her.

"What do you mean by this?" It glared down at her hand. Not that it didn't know what a handshake was. That it didn't understand her easy acceptance of a ceasefire.

Isabel dropped her hand. "You are the product of everything he has ever done. You love him more than anyone will ever be capable of - even me. I'm bound to him by choice. You're bound to him… because you are him. You were here before me, and you'll be here long after I'm gone." She reached her hand out to him once more. "Why would I want to get in the way of that?"

The visage of the castle watched her, darkly - observing her words and taking a moment to consider them. With a reluctant sigh, it couldn't find fault in them - but that did not mean it had to enjoy the situation they were now in. Jaw twitching once more, it placed its hand into hers.

Isabel woke up from the dream at that moment - and had to blink and shake her head as two versions of Vlad's face fought for supremacy. Like two tv stations broadcasted on the same channel. One, that of the castle's - and the other the one she recognized now almost as easily as her own. She was lying on the chaise lounge in his library, and she looked at him, confused, blinking.

"You fainted," he mumbled. He reached up a hand to touch her forehead, as if looking for a fever.

'I can't imagine why,' she quipped silently in response with a faint smirk. She felt like she'd just run a marathon - every muscle ached. And no wonder.

Finally, his face broke into a grin, and he kissed her - joyfully. Ecstatic. His happiness was overwhelming and it hit her like a rolling wave. She found herself silently laughing, whapping her hand against his chest as he kissed her, again and again, holding her face in his hands. He was laughing as well.

She would have shrieked, if she could, as he picked her up from the lounge and spun her around once - in a moment of childlike joy that she was sure the ancient creature had not experienced in… at least a millennium or two.

Isabel's feet finally met the ground once more as he put her down, and she held onto his arms to keep from toppling over from the spinning. 'Easy there, cowboy,' she said silently at him, still smiling herself. 'Don't make me throw up on your nice flooring.'

"Against all odds, my little dove…" Vlad's hands were on her shoulders again, looking down at her in awe. "Against all, you have succeeded! We are bound… can you feel it?!" Isabel nodded, silently. Beneath the ache, she could feel… power. Humming through her, like an electric charge. He continued, a hand now cupping her jaw in his palm, watching her eagerly. "You are now safe from whatever that half-rate usurping ghost can dream of."

His lips met hers again in an eager, excited, passionate kiss. He held it for a long time, before she punched his chest lightly in a silent reminder she needed to breathe. He broke it with another low chuckle, watching her. "You shall not fall by his hand, nor any other's. Not while I exist upon this earth."

Isabel out a long breath, and let that sink in for a moment. 'I"m going to live… for a long, long time,' she silently pointed out the obvious.

"Indeed," he smirked.

Isabel looked off for a moment, thinking. Letting it process. She then nodded, once, and looked back up at him - amber eyes to red once more, and smiled faintly. She felt, for the moment, optimistic. That eternity may not be so bad.

Perhaps he had expected fear - or regret. But he hadn't expected quiet acceptance. He picked up her hand, and laced his fingers into hers. She felt the charge that crackled between them - felt the power coursing through her, like she was part of a circuit.

No one had ever survived to become bound to Dracula's blood. God only knew what it meant for her. It was a long moment of standing there, in awe, feeling the buzz of the unnameable energy between them, before he finally released her hand and instead, cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her again, before gently parting. He straightened up, and resumed the mask of king. The moment of joy he allowed himself had passed. There was business to attend.

"Speaking of the half-rate ghost... " Vlad ran a hand through her hair, gently. "While I would much rather… savor the moment with you," he growled low in his throat, insinuation clear. "We have much still to do."

Isabel stood, leaning up against the wall of the castle, wearing the corset-gone-hoodie that Vlad had made for her. It felt much more natural her now, standing here, amongst the ridiculous decor. This was, after all, her home now.

Her home.

She let that thought roll through her mind for a moment. She was not someone who ever really had a home. In her mind, where she 'lived' was just a place to sleep. Hell, she never even got a cat or anything for fear of it getting stuck unfed while she was out on a job with her friends. Hell, she felt bad for the neglected houseplants.

Her feeling 'safer' now - as Vlad's companion, having come to an accord with the castle - didn't keep her from tucking the silver dagger that Adrian had given her when they had met. The blessed blade that Lisa had originally given him. Wraith was dangerous - and she knew he had no qualms about hurting her.

But this, crazy, messed-up and possessed mind-fuck of a castle was now her home. She wondered how the other women in Vlad's life had done it. She thought about Lisa - and what she knew of her. The kindly woman of science, who wished to heal the townsfolk and better their lives. How could she live in a place like this, surrounded by such death? She didn't do it for long, she observed. Long enough for Adrian to be born and raised, she counter-argued to herself.

Speaking of Adrian, she looked over at a large door as it was pushed open from the other side, and a familiar figure strode through. The figure - ever seeming like a weeping angel statue amongst the gothic architecture around him, looked up at her, and did not respond for a moment. Then, he tilted his head slightly to one side. Isabel could feel his surprise, even though it didn't register on his face. "You have succeeded where the others have failed."

Isabel nodded once, and smiled faintly. 'Looks that way.'

Adrian's look of confusion and concern deepened. "Why do you speak into my mind?"

Isabel sighed, and shoved her hands in her pockets. 'I can't speak aloud anymore. It's… a long story.'

"My father's doing, no doubt," he replied with a darkening tone.

'No - well, yes, but no. This is mostly my fault. I did this to myself, because of - nevermind. It's not important,' she gestured dismissively with a hand. 'I'm getting used to it.'

"If you insist..." Adrian walked down the hallway towards her. "Regardless - both my congratulations, and my sympathies, are yours. To be bound to my father is a… difficult future."

Isabel nodded, agreeing, and thanking him for his 'kindness.' Even if he did have a cold way of going about it. She knew 'life' from here on out would be difficult - that was never in question. Before, when she was not in the direct presence of the vampire, she couldn't feel him. Now, it was like he was always there, beside her in the shadows. But like losing her voice, she was confident she'd adjust.

A slight breath left Adrian in what could be considered a forlorn sigh. "You came to find me for a reason."

Isabel laughed to herself. So much like his father - straight to business. 'Vlad wants to speak to you. He wants you to leave here, before we try to take down Wraith-' Isabel realized he had no idea who that was. Not really. 'It's a long story. He doesn't want you potentially being in the crossfire. You leaving was contingent on you having a word with him.'

Adrian watched her keenly - saying nothing for a moment, as if attempting to discern if she was speaking the truth or not. "Wraith is the spirit who possessed you, and now holds your friends hostage. Lyon spoke of him. He also spoke of what my father drove you to do."

Isabel sighed and shut her eyes. There was no small amount of her that was embarrassed. 'Yeah.'

"That is all you have to say?" Adrian asked with a slight arch to his eyebrow.

'Pot calling the kettle black, much?' Isabel shoved her hands into her pockets. Some habits died hard - and even though she didn't need to 'hide' anymore, it still felt comfortable to try.

"Why did he send you? He could have sent anyone…"

'I think he wanted you to see that I'm… bound to him now. I think he wanted to see that he has what he wanted. That he might be content for a time to stay here, and not wage war on mankind.'

"We shall see," was his only reply. He gestured for her to 'lead on,' and so, she did. Turning her back on him, she walked down the hallway towards the door she had come through. Originally, that door had lead from Dracula's chambers. But now, she knew it'd lead somewhere else.

An arm snaked around her neck and yanked her backwards - sending her off balance. A voice whispered in her ear. "Hey baby girl… Missed you."

Wraith.

The voice laughed - a sharp, maniacal laughter that sounded like an old horror movie villain. Her world dropped away out from under her as everything dissolved into mist.

The ground rushed up to meet her as the world reassembled around her. She hit the stone with a thud, and her mind reeled to try and catch up. Someone had grabbed her - that someone had been Wraith. But who - how?

A hand on her shoulder rolled her over onto her back - and she looked up into the face of… Adrian. A face that was always stoic in its icy beauty. Now, it was twisted in a sinister, evil smirk. A smirk that she recognized - even if it had no business being on those features.

'Oh no…' she shook her head, not believing what she was seeing.

"Oh yes," Wraith said through Adrian's voice as he knelt down, straddling her waist and pinning her to the floor. He looked down at her with a smile, and ran a white-gloved finger down her cheek. "Aren't you pleased? This body is the best I've had so far. Stronger, faster… sexier."

Isabel only had half a second to look around to see where he had brought them - some great hall of the castle, walls of black marble and white painted limestone. Tables and chairs dotted the walls. She was unable to register any more than that, as he tilted her face to look up at him with a finger.

He leaned down to kiss her, and she turned her head away again - pushing her hands against his chest, trying to stop him. She summoned all the loathing, all the disgust she could - and tried to push it onto him. Tried to force him to get off of her. He tsked down at her, shaking a finger. "Now now… I can feel you, in there - trying to control me. No dice. Not this time. Adrian's got too much self control to fall for that little stunt."

He went down to kiss her again - and she slapped him, as hard as she could. If the other method wouldn't work - she at least could go that route. Wraith laughed hard, and leaned back. "Oh come on! You can't tell me you don't love the idea of getting it on with father and son. I mean, seriously - would you fuck me? I'd fuck me." He laughed at his more-than-a-little-fitting use of a movie quote.

Isabel glared up at him silently, and he pursed his lips in response. "What a face. So angry! I bet you thought, when I found you bound to Vlad - you'd think I'd give up. You thought I'd snap my fingers-" he did so, miming being disappointed, "say 'shucks,' and wander off on my own without you?! Bitch, please." Wraith snickered again, and pulled a knife out of his boot. He twirled it around his fingers with a deft skill, and without warning, jammed the knife into her collarbone.

Isabel screamed silently - arching her back, writhing in pain as the blade bit through her skin and hit the stone at her back, chipping the surface with the force. He laughed at her silent agony, and pulled the blade back out with a shlorp noise as the blade pulled free of flesh and bone.

"Quite the opposite." Leaning down over her, he ripped the fabric away from the wound - tearing the cloth of her hoodie and her shirt easily. He watched the wound bubble up blood with a deep fascination. When he spoke, his fangs had extended. "This means… I get to do things like this, and you'll be fine. Ooh…" he purred, in a dark ecstacy. "This means you're my little doll… I can do whatever I want to you - however hard I want to do it - and you'll bounce right back…"

He leaned down over her. "Adrian has a lot of self control, you know… but I can feel just how bad he wants to taste blood again…" He went to lower his head to the wound, and she felt his tongue press into the puncture mark, pushing into the cut. He moaned in pleasure, sealing his lips around the injury.

His self control snapped as he wrapped an arm around her, pressing her up against him as he pushed himself against her - digging his teeth into her skin as he fed. A low growl formed in the back of his throat, and she could hear him lapping at her blood like an animal at the fallen carcass of a deer.

She felt his mind against hers as he fed hungrily from her, like a starving man - felt the buzzing of the thousands of souls that comprised him, swarming around her like locust. They touched her like the wings of insects - too many at once to single any of them out. She felt a thousand thoughts all at once, like static on a television set.

Still, she tried to push him off of her - but it was pointless.

Isabel felt the wound close out from under him, stopping his feast. He growled in frustration as the source of blood closed. He sat back up - if even just by a few inches, to look down into her face, now hazy with blood loss. Even as her bond with Vlad healed her - it still took a lot out of her.

His eyes were clouded with bloodlust at the feeling of her esense pounding through his body. His lips were stained crimson as he spoke. "I love you… you must believe me. I really do," he said down to her, his voice husky. His fangs extended, and he went to drive them into her throat.

Isabel summoned her strength again and pushed her disgust and revulsion against him. With her blood now in his veins - there was no resisting it this time. Wraith snarled and clambered off of her, flying up to standing and nearly tripping over himself as he pushed himself away from her. "No-" he moaned in dismay - in betrayal. Seeing his chance escaping him, he pressed his palms against his head, slapping them against his temples, trying to get her out of his mind. Trying to resume control.

Isabel sat up, and the world swirled around her. Isabel knew she couldn't stand. Not yet. Wraith had drank heavily from her - more so than Vlad ever had in one go. Wraith didn't care what happened - didn't care if he hurt her. Vlad had been far more careful.

But Isabel had a job to do.

She extended her hand, palm towards him - and forced her will against his again. Made him feel regret, grief, sadness. Made him want forgiveness, more than anything else in this world. Made him feel lower than dirt for what he had done.

Wraith, with Adrian's body, let out a mournful wail, and doubled over in pain. He sunk to his knees, looking at her wide-eyed in horror. He was barely two feet from her, but suddenly seemed so small and helpless. "Stop… please…"

'Let them go,' she commanded. 'Let my friends go.'

"No," he moaned again, and put his head in his hands, and slammed the heel of his hand against his temple, snarling. "Stop, stop, stop! Get out!"

Isabel pushed harder. Made him loathe himself. Made him hate everything he had become. Everything he had done. Isabel mirrored the hate from what she had seen in the depths of Vlad's soul. The loathing. 'Let them go.'

"Forgive me, please…" Wraith begged. "Forgive me… get out of my head…!"

'Let them go, and I'll forgive you,' she promised him.

He looked up at her - hopeful expression pushing through the pain she was causing. He reached out towards her, longingly. Pleadingly. He knew she was probably lying. But it didn't matter. Right then, right there - all he knew was loathing for himself. Hatred. Pain. Loss. Shame.

Isabel reached her arms out to him in reply, and with a grateful sob he threw himself into her arms, head on her shoulder, like a child. Isabel didn't let up - she wouldn't, until he set her friends free. Isabel had one goal in this whole ordeal, and she would see it through - all the rest be damned.

His shadow swirled around them on the ground - and reached out behind him suddenly. Like a grotesque projection from some unseen source. It ran up the wall behind Wraith, and at that moment - Eric and Adam tumbled forth from the shadow like they had been dumped out of a moving car.

They both looked weak, harried - barely conscious. Unable even to register where they were, or what had happened. Isabel felt tears of relief spring to her eyes as she saw them - battered, but alive.

It was a roar of fire that took them both from the great hall where Wraith had taken them off to somewhere else, somewhere safe. The same roar of fire announced Vlad's arrival at the same time, standing behind Wraith where he knelt in Isabel's arms.

The sound of the flame was enough to snap Wraith back to reality. Her control over him was broken in that instant. He growled low, and she felt his arms around her tighten. Suddenly she was standing, her back pressed against Adrian's chest - one of his arms around her neck, squeezing hard enough to cut off her air.

Isabel gasped and grabbed at his arm, trying to make room for her to breathe. It took all her focus just to keep air flowing to her lungs - and that was entirely his intention. She couldn't force her way back into his mind, if she was too busy breathing. Wraith snarled angrily, and drove his fist into her side, and she gagged in pain as he did. "You played me, you little bitch!" he yelled at her. "You knew exactly what you were doing!"

"It was a clever ploy - to take my son's body as your own. You know you are safe within that form, as I will not tear you to pieces," Vlad said, as he summoned his long, dangerous sword from the ether and into his hand. It crackled with power as he held it - the tip just barely above the floor.

"You let me take him-" Wraith laughed. "You let me do it - sent me her to force me out of hiding! She let me drink her blood, so she could trick me into setting them free!" His mirth snapped in an instant and he squeezed her throat tighter for a moment, making her see spots in her vision. "I'm impressed." He released her throat just enough to let a barest scrap of air in, and she pulled it into her burning lungs. "You're such a good little liar, empath… Making me think I had you by surprise."

"It is impressive what she will agree to do, to protect those she cares about," Vlad said idly. "When I proposed this solution to our problem, she heartily agreed."

"You're going to suffer for that," Wraith purred into her ear. "I promise."

"Taking possession of Adrian to catch me off guard, and use him against me - was only one option of many I saw before you. One of many options which I anticipated, and planned a riposte." Vlad stepped forward - and Wraith tensed, holding her in front of him like a shield. "You are clever. I will give you that. But you forget with whom you are playing - I am the commander of the army of the damned. I am the King of hell on earth. I am a tactician, above all. You cannot win."

Wraith grinned, and nuzzled his head into her hair. Even though he was afraid - she could feel it - he was taunting Vlad. Hoping he could use Vlad's anger and protectiveness against him. "So what're you willing to lose? If I can't win, it's a matter of what I take when I go down."

"That is the question," Vlad responded, taking another step towards them. "Your goal of seeing yourself - and Isabel - gone from this place, will never be allowed to occur."

"See, here's the thing… I have two cards in my hand. Your son - which I can kill - and your girlfriend, which I can't kill, but boy, can I maim. I, myself, don't terribly much feel like dying." He snarled through clenched teeth. "Been there, done that a few thousand times."

"What is your proposal?" Vlad asked, seemingly bored with Wraith's prattle.

"Here's how this goes. You let me kill you and this place comes down at the seams - I take her, and now that she can't die - thank you very much - I drag her through this frozen wasteland to somewhere lovely and proceed to fuck her up in every conceivable and possible way." For the first time, Wraith took a step back from Vlad - revealing that he was unsure of his standing against the vampire king. "But I'm not an unreasonable man. When you come back in a hundred years, you come find us - give me somebody new to drive around in lieu of your son, and I let them both go."

Vlad laughed - finding sincere humor in his proposition. "Even if your proposal were not absurd - am I to take you at your word? You think me so great a fool?"

"Not at all! Never said you were. I know I can't beat you in a fight. But I'm not leaving here without getting what I want out of her. She made me. She is responsible for me. You take a dirt nap for a hundred years, and wake up like no time's passed. It's all the same to you. Meanwhile, I get a hundred years to cut my pound of flesh from her. I'll give her back to you in the same condition you left her. Well, more-or-less," he grinned, unable to keep his insinuation out of his voice.

Vlad's reply was a simple, immutable "No."

Wraith let out an exaggerated sigh and squeezed her throat hard - making her gag and struggle in pain. He let up after a moment, letting her cough and gasp for air. A sharp reminder to Vlad that while she couldn't stay dead - he could kill her, over and over again. "Then quit wasting my time. I have your kid. I have your girl. What's your play?!"

Vlad sneered. "Me."

Wraith was caught off guard by that - for the first time found without words. "What?"

"You leave Adrian's body, and take mine instead."

'No!' Isabel shouted silently at them both - struggling harder. This was madness! Even for him! 'Don't you dare!'

"Shush," Wraith wrenched her neck to the side, making it pop - clearly threatening to snap her neck to shut her up. "Let the man speak," he finished, intrigued. "Explain, exactly, why you're offering me this?"

"You say she made you. No. I am your true progenitor. That fountain that birthed your wasted existence was of my making. She would not have been placed within that stream of souls if it were not for my having put her there. Your creation is my responsibility. Not hers." Vlad took another step forward. "You say you love her. I have no doubt you do, in so much as you are capable. As do I. Neither of us are the kind of man to share. The only way we will both be satisfied… is if we are one and the same."

"And it spares your boy," Wraith pondered aloud, thinking. He looked down at her, and smirked. "I wonder how you'll take it - when I'm stirring up your insides with the body you want so much..." He purred into her ear. "I wonder if you'll still beg for forgiveness. I wonder if you'll still scream for me..."

"Enough," Vlad growled. "Do not test my patience."

"Psh, let a man have his fun, will you?" Wraith complained, and grinned at Vlad. "Fine. Deal accepted." Wraith dropped her to the floor, and Isabel fell to her hands and knees, coughing - a hand to her throat as she gasped for air.

'Stop - please, don't do this-' she begged from the floor - unable to stand as her head swam from blood and air loss combined.

"You fight me, big boy," Wraith warned, holding a finger aloft. "And we'll have serious problems." Vlad simply gritted his teeth, glaring at the figure of his possessed son before him.

"Get on with it," the vampire king replied.

It was then, that Wraith's shadow left Adrian's body and moved to Vlad's - the black blot descending on the vampire king's own. Adrian's eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap, unconscious.

Wraith had left Tim a soulless lump of flesh upon his departure. Isabel could only hope that he had not done the same to Adrian - that there was still something left of him inside.

Vlad snarled and gripped his head, his claws digging into his dark hair as Wraith's shadow invaded his mind. He thrashed, slashing out at someone who wasn't there, before he too, collapsed to the floor in a heap.

When Isabel finally managed to stand, she staggered over to the fallen vampire king. She knelt down at Vlad's side, and gently rolled him to his back. Panicking, she placed a hand on his shoulder, and the other against his cheek, and tried to shake his shoulder gently to wake him. 'Vlad!' she cried silently. Although you probably couldn't speak into a mind that wasn't conscious. Isabel sighed, frustrated for the first time at her lost voice.

Isabel shook him again - but it wasn't working. She wished she could shout at him - but knew nothing would happen. Tears stung her eyes again as she whapped her fist against his chest. 'Wake up, you fucking moron, wake up!'

She leaned down and kissed him desperately - kissed the idiot that she had fallen in love with. Kissed him, trying to wake him up, hoping that he was stronger than Wraith. Hoping he fought the possession and won.

Vlad didn't move. She broke the kiss after a long moment and sighing, put her head against his chest. She didn't know what else to do. She spent minutes like that, thinking, mind reeling and trying to come up with a plan.

This plan had been Vlad's idea - to test and see if Adrian was the man possessed. If so, she was to let him feed from her, to control his emotions. Then, she could convince him to free her friends. Isabel cursed herself loudly in her mind. When she had asked 'and then what?' Vlad had smiled and simply said 'I have a plan.' She hadn't pressed him hard enough for the answer. God damn it she should have known it was something like this!

Vlad would have to be strong enough to overcome Wraith. There's no way the creature could win over the original vampire. Isabel could only pray that was true.

A hand was in her hair, stroking it once, before gently lifting her face up to look at him. Red eyes met amber, and she smiled, hopeful. 'Vlad..?' she asked, silently.

He didn't respond, but watched her for a moment before running a sharp nail along her cheek, down to the edge of her lip. He leaned his head up to kiss her, a deep, and passionate kiss. Vlad's hand slid to the back of her neck, and pulled her closer to him. His tongue slid into her mouth, exploring hers, slowly. His other hand wandered to her side, and pulled her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. Isabel felt like putty in his hands as she kissed him back, her hand winding into the fabric of his vest.

Finally, reluctantly, he broke the kiss, and she felt his lips wander to her ear. He whispered to her gently, lovingly.

"Hey, baby girl... Missed you."