Author Note: Okay, I seemed to have confused someone as to the type of vampire Alececarr is. Or maybe my whole idea of what a vampire is. I believe a vampire is a demon-possessed corpse. They are undead, and the demon inhabitation gives them strengths, which are well known. When I thought about this, I thought it was odd that I've never read of a vampire whose demon had a name. It was always just a demon force or energy, and the vampire kept most of their personality from when they were living.

I figure that the original vampires all had identifiable demons. Not to get too religious on you, but in the Bible, when Jesus casts out demons, the demons have personalities and some of them are even named. So with vampires, over the ages, the demons had spread their spirits so generously among their spawn that their individual identities were lost, and what ended up being passed was just the demon's spirit.

Alececarr is an original demon and has retained his identity to such an extent that the identity of the human he inhabited was lost instead. I don't know what the precedent is for making a vampire resistant to invitations and sunlight and the like, but I did it just to give Entreri headaches. I might have over stepped my bounds there. But we'll see.

On with the story . . .

Chapter 7
The First Date

Christine paced in her room. It was midday, and she was still wearing her nightgown. She had called off work for the second day in a row. The dreams last night had not been the same. Before they had been passionate and sensual; now they were nightmares.

He had been lost to her.

It happened in a variety of ways, but the end result had always been that he would never return. He had been killed, lost, rejected, lured away by someone else, and in each case Christine had awoken screaming for him to come back. She couldn't explain it.

Since she had awoken for good, she had convinced herself that she hated him. He was no good. He was chocolate. He was brash and bold and exciting, but he was bad for her. She needed something to get him off her mind. She had tried everything.

Christine fancied herself something of a musician, but after struggling with her harpsichord for half an hour, she gave up. She had tried sewing, but her stitching was off and she couldn't focus. She tried reading, but she imagined him in every story, and she had to stop. Something needed to happen to take her mind off of him.

There was a knock on her door. "Yes?"

"There is a message for you miss."

It was the housemaid. Christine quickly wrapped a robe around herself, not wanting the maid to know she hadn't dressed yet and opened the door. The maid held out a rolled note with a ribbon around the center. "A young boy brought this. His employer asks if you would be kind enough to give a response."

"Thank you, Miriam," Christine answered. She took the note and opened it. She read it three times. When she finally looked up, there was a smile on her face. Miriam returned the smile, knowing that the young woman had locked herself in her room for two days.

"You can tell the boy to tell his employer that I would be delighted to accept his offer."

"I will do so at once," the maid replied, nodding to the lady of the house, and quickly retreating down the hall to the front door.

Christine closed her door and tossed the note on her bed. This would definitely help take her mind off of . . . She stopped herself. She had almost thought of his name. He hadn't given it to her. He had told her she would dream of it herself. Had she? She almost thought of it again but stopped herself. Had he a name in her dreams?

Christine shook her head. No. She would deal with real men only tonight, not fantasies that flew in and out of windows and dreams. She walked over to her dresser where the box with the dress that her father had given her lay. She held the dress up for examination and smiled. This would be a good night.

The carriage pulled up in front of the Toole house at 6pm sharp. Artemis Entreri stepped out of his new toy and walked boldly up to the front door of the mansion. Christine opened the door before he got there. Entreri stopped on the steps and stared.

The assassin had grown up in Calimport. He had seen prostitutes walking the streets, and when he had gotten older, he had been propositioned several times before the women realized he was not going to let down his guard. He had been in harems and through whorehouses. To say it bluntly, he had seen a lot of skin in his life.

Now before him there was actually very little skin. What he looked at now he had never seen before. He saw true beauty. Christine was young, vibrant, and glowing. She had a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes. Entreri had never seen anything like it. He paused, sorting out his feelings.

Entreri did not desire her, for he felt something like this could never really be taken in the first place. It had to be given, and Christine would never give it to him. Instead, he viewed her as a microcosm for the city. The city was relatively young and full of potential. It had riches that Entreri wanted, but he now realized that he could not take those riches. They had to be given to him.

They would not be given freely though. He would first have to protect this city. Alec wanted to devour Garrilport, Entreri needed to stop that. Likewise, Fredrick wished to devour this young woman. Entreri wasn't one for too much symbolism, but he knew that in order to save the city, he was going to have to start with Christine.

"You look lovely this evening," Entreri said, kneeling on the last step and extending his hand up to her.

She took it gently and stepped forward. "Thank you. And how do you like my dress tonight?"

Entreri looked at her dress, realizing he was being tested. "It does you justice."

She raised her eyebrows at the odd phrasing. "Justice?"

"You wish for me to compare it to the dress you wore when we first met," he replied, leading her down the stairs. "In that respect it is not as glamorous as the other, but it still holds its own allure."

Christine accepted that answer for now, but she still had a few questions for this man. She waited until he had helped her into the carriage and had seated himself from the other side. The driver got under way, and she turned to him. "This dress cost a fortune, or at least it must have for my father bought it, while I had made the other dress myself out of 15 coins worth of fabric. Yet you are to have me believe that you find this dress inferior. You are trying to flatter me."

Then take the flattery and shut up, Entreri thought but wisely didn't say. "I complimented you on your dress the other night before you told me you had made it, yet said nothing of this one until you prompted me. Does not that show my true feelings on the matter?"

Christine smiled at him, letting her suitor know that he had passed the test, but the questions weren't over. "Someone had told you that I had made the first one."

"No one told me."

"But you knew."

Entreri nodded.

"How?"

He took a deep breath. "Your first dress did not have a hem but a lace trim around the bottom, meaning it could not have been lengthened after it was made. You are a tall woman, and in order for that dress to fit you in the torso and be the proper length, it must have been custom made."

"But that still doesn't mean that I made it," she argued.

Entreri was quiet under her gaze. She turned in her seat to look directly at him. "Oh, no. I won't have that. You will tell me how you knew I had made the dress or . . ."

"Or what?" Entreri asked. He could tell she was playing with him and didn't really fear the answer.

"Or I will tell the driver to turn around."

Entreri pretended like he was considering offer, and Christine slapped him playfully on the arm. "Tell me."

"On the left side of your bodice, you missed a seam on your first pass and had to pull the threads to try again. It was a small mistake and barely noticeable, but I do not believe a professional seamstress would have made that mistake."

Christine had a look of humility and amazement on her face. She turned back around and leaned against the seat again. Yes, she had gone over that seam twice, but how had he seen that?

Before she could wrap her mind around this revelation, Entreri continued. "This dress, while more ornately decorated and made out of a finer fabric, does not fit you as well as your first dress. It is tighter around the hips and bodice, and while that might negate the need of a corset, which you aren't wearing, it also skews your natural figure, a figure that is far more attractive that that of the mannequin this dress was designed to fit."

"Uh, thank you, I think," Christine replied, completely blown away by what this man had said. No, he was not just flattering her, he was being more honest and knowledgeable than any man she had ever met. Christine almost wished for the immature boys that came into the fabric shop. While they just said she was gorgeous and stared at her chest, she could at least understand them. She felt that if she asked this man if she was fat, he would actually reply honestly. For a moment that scared her.

But isn't that what she wanted? Her night stalker was a mystery. She couldn't really trust anything he said. This man was completely honest with her. She didn't have to worry about him. That should bring her relief, but for some reason it frightened her as well.

"Was I out of line?" Entreri asked after several moments of silence.

"No," Christine replied quickly. She then relaxed and chuckled. "No, not at all. I just . . . I mean . . . How do you know so much about women's clothing?"

After being so honest with her, Entreri wondered if he should continue. Basadoni had made him study women's fashions when he had been trained. "Men are straight forward," he had said. "If they are going to kill you, they will come at you with a knife in their hand and hatred in their eyes. Women, on the other hand, will lure you with seduction and smiles. They can go to a ball in the finest gown and have ten weapons hidden underneath without anyone knowing. They will flash their eyes and flash their skin at you. They will take you to bed and then kill you in your sleep. If you are going to survive in this city, you will have to learn everything about them."

"I have traveled to different cities and understand fashions," Entreri replied. "I try not to be ignorant of things regardless how little they might apply to my life. One never knows what tomorrow will bring."

"No," Christine agreed, "one never knows." She was happy with this answer and smiled. "So what do you do for a living?"

"I run a ship construction yard and own a restaurant."

"Well," she replied, "I guess that makes the decisions of where to go to dinner an easy one."

"Not exactly," Entreri replied. "My restaurant is next to the ship yard. They are in the northern half of the city."

"Really?" Instead of the prejudice Entreri expected, Christine seemed genuinely intrigued by this. "What is it like up there? Is it really as bad as people say?"

Entreri could see this woman had a wild streak in her. It was kind of a necessity when being courted by a vampire and an assassin at the same time, but he could see it went deeper than that, especially since she didn't know the true identities of either man. She would not turn away from excitement. She wasn't the kind of woman who would refuse to get her hands dirty or do her own work. That was evident enough in the fact that she made her own clothes.

"Yes and no," Entreri answered her question. "Most of the people up there want nothing more than to come south and live like you do. Because of financial reasons, they can't, so they are forced to work like dogs until they get an opportunity. Others have lost hope, and their self-destructive life styles bring the rest of the population down with them."

"So why do you live and work up there?"

"Because that is where the industry is," Entreri replied. "The industry owners are all too happy to offer minimal wages and poor working conditions to their employees as long as they can sell their product down south for an inflated amount. In the process they degrade their most valuable resource, their workers, and find it difficult to churn out a high quality product.

"My ships are the best money can buy and their price reflects that. Once the traders in the south realize that, my business will grow and my competitors will have to offer their workers the same stable lifestyle I do, or continue to let their product suffer and go out of business. It will take a while, but eventually they will realize that the only thing keeping them from living like the southerners do is themselves."

"Very well put," Christine replied. This man had vision. He knew what he was doing and how to do it. He could also see into the future and could be the driving force in rebuilding half the city. If the northern section of town could be reinvented like Entreri said, the potential for Garrilport was unlimited.

Entreri was a far smarter choice than . . . His name was on the tip of her mind and she stopped. No! She wasn't going to think about him tonight. Tonight was her escape from that nightmare of a relationship. Tonight she was with Artemis, a man who would treat her with honesty and respect, something that . . . No! She would not think of his name.

Struggling with herself, Christine didn't say a word until they reached the restaurant, and Entreri appreciated the silence.

Fredrick found Christine's room empty.

The vampire figured she had just gone to the bathroom or to the kitchen for dinner and waited for her. He sat in the quiet, dark room for 45 minutes. She did not return. Fredrick got up and started walking around the room, looking at her personal items and trying to figure out where she could be.

There was an empty box on the dresser with a dress receipt inside but no dress. Had she gone to another party? Fredrick looked around the room again and noticed a piece of paper on the bed. He walked over, picked up the note, and read it very slowly.

Dear Christine,

If I may be so bold, I would like to request your presence this evening at
a small dinner party I am having for two. I understand the lateness of this
request, and if you are otherwise engaged or disinclined to accept my
invitation, I will understand.

I fear that both of us were otherwise distracted the other night and our brief
encounters reflected this. I hopped that in a more relaxed environment with
fewer distractions we might be able to have a conversation that lasted more
than a few carefully selected words.

I look forward to seeing you this evening, and if your answer is "Yes," then
I will arrive in front of your home at 6'oclock in the evening.

AE

Fredrick read the note three times. Each time it felt like his body temperature rose another 50 degrees. She was out with another man. It was someone whom she had probably met at the party. He had asked her to dinner, and she had accepted.

Fredrick wanted to tear the note apart, but decided not to destroy the evidence. He wasn't doing a very good job of entrancing his prey. He was obviously new at this game, and now some idiot had stepped in and taken Christine from him. Fredrick smiled. They hadn't taken Christine; they had merely borrowed her for the evening. He was confident she would come back to him, and if this other man posed any type of threat, Fredrick would just have to kill him.

Fredrick remained confident as he sat down in one of the chairs in the corner of the dark room and waited.

Dinner went by quickly. Entreri took Christine to the nicest restaurant in the south. Entreri ordered for her, confident that she wasn't going to be a picky eater and the discussion was sparse. Entreri could tell she was dealing with a lot of inner turmoil, and it didn't take much of an imagination to figure out why.

Entreri tried to bring up topics about her school and what the southern cities were like. This was something she knew a lot about, and it was information that could help Entreri down the road, but Christine found it hard to focus on anything. She smiled and answered his questions, but her heart wasn't in it.

Entreri paid for the meal, and the two of them got back in the carriage after the valet brought it around. "I'm sorry I'm not much of a conversationalist tonight," she said after a few quiet moments."

"I thought I was supposed to be the shy one," he replied with a grin.

She laughed at that. "It's just that I have a lot of things going on right now in my life, and it is difficult to sort them all out."

Entreri drew back at this. "If I am in any way intruding in your life, please, let me know and I will back off."

"No, no," she said quickly. "It's not that, it's just . . ."

"Is there someone else? Did someone else from the party call on you? I find it hard to believe that I was the only one."

Christine paused. She was about to say "Yes," and then about to say "No," and then just sighed. "I don't know. I'm sorry. You seem very nice, but I am just confused right now."

They were both silent for a few moments. "If you want to take me home now, I will understand."

Entreri shook his head. "No, I want to show you something."

"What?" she asked, but Entreri had leaned out the window to give instruction to his driver.

When he came back she looked at him expectantly, repeating the question with her eyes. He just smiled. "You'll see."

They rode for 10 minutes until the carriage stopped. Entreri opened the door and helped Christine out without saying a word. She stepped out of the carriage and looked around. They were by the river next to the southern portion of the wall that separated the two halves of the city.

It wasn't really a wall, for the city officials didn't want to make it that obvious they were trying to keep the northern half out, but it was a line of brick buildings without gaps between them. Occasionally there was a dead end alleyway in between two buildings, but for the most part, the barrier was well hidden.

"What are we doing here?" Christine asked.

Entreri didn't answer but walked up to the last building before the river and used a key in his pocket to open the door. Christine rushed up to him, casting a look over her shoulder down the dark street. "What are you doing?" she asked in a harsh whisper. "We can't go in there?"

"Sure we can," Entreri responded. "I know the owner."

He opened the door and motioned for Christine to enter first. Something about this whole activity felt criminal. It seemed like they were breaking into a building. Her pulse quickened and for the first time that night she was not thinking about someone else.

Entreri closed the door and locked it behind him. They were in a small, dark foyer with a counter and chairs. Off to one side was a small office and washroom, to the other side, toward the river, was another closed door. Entreri walked to it. Christine didn't ask any more questions but picked up her dress and hurried after him.

The next room was filled with tools. They were the largest wrenches and mallets and crowbars Christine had ever seen. They almost looked like hand tools for giants. She didn't know how anyone could use anything that big.

The next room made her gasp in awe. It was a huge room, long and narrow. She understood they were right next to the river now, and along that wall was the biggest collection of gears she had ever seen. Her university had a clock tower that she had toured, but this was far more than that. None of the gears were moving at the moment but each one was as tall as a man with teeth that could chew apart a horse. They seemed to be stacked on top of each other in a chaotic way, but as her eyes went from one to another, she could almost follow the path of motion.

The room's floor fell away under the gears, and she leaned against a metal railing to pear down into the hole to see how far down it went. It was too dark to see the bottom, but Entreri quickly lit a torch and brought it over to her. The gears went down at least 20 feet.

"This is amazing," she finally said. "I had no idea this was here. I don't even know where we are."

"These are the locks," Entreri replied. "This is the heart of our city. Without this room and the mammoth locks outside, this city would not exist. These make shipments down the river possible. Without them, the gentle river that flows past your house would be a raging rapids half the year, and barely more than a creek the other half."

"How do they work?" she asked.

Entreri smiled, happy that he had made her think about something else. "Follow me." He led her through another door, and they were outside. She gaped again.

The river made a slight bend when it came down the locks such that they were tough to see down river unless you were in the middle of the river. The only way to see them from land was from the side. Since they went down, the view from the lake wasn't very good either.

"It looks like a staircase in the river, but, but, but it's so big."

"It is a staircase," Entreri replied, "only each step is 10 feet tall and over 50 feet wide." He let her stand and soak it in a bit more before continuing. "Follow me, but watch out for the paint."

Christine saw the empty paint buckets and glistening wooden planks and avoided them accordingly, lifting her dress up so she could take careful steps. "They are always painting these things to keep the wood sealed." Entreri explained as he ducked under some scaffolding and moved to the edge of the wooden deck.

Christine followed cautiously, her eyes on the scaffolding, buckets of paint, and other assorted obstacles that littered the wooden deck all while she gathered her dress around her, glad that it wasn't of the ruffled style that many of the girls from the southern cities wore.

It wasn't until she had finished the mini-obstacle course that she realized where Entreri was headed. Her suitor stood at the edge of the deck right next to one of the middle locks. The wooden barrier was massive, 6 feet wide, at least 60 feet long, and who knows how deep since it disappeared into the water. The top of the lock wall had a railing on either side, but Christine shook her head.

"I don't think so."

Entreri pleaded with her. "Please. I promise you will be safe. You have to trust me."

She didn't look convinced, but as Entreri extended his hand, she took it and walked cautiously out onto the narrow wall. Entreri lead her along slowly until they were in the middle of the river standing on the seam between the two huge doors. Christine had been watching her feet the whole trip out, but now Entreri motioned for her to look down river.

She did and smiled. "It's beautiful." The moon and stars were out tonight, and the houses along the river were lit up with their own lights. The reflections danced in the smooth current of the river adding depth to the coastline. "It's like we are standing in the river."

She had sailed on ships south before, but from a ship, the view is not the same. There were so many riggings on a ship, and the hull was so big, that you always knew where you were. Out here, she looked over the railing and could see nothing but water and lights. Plus, on a ship you boarded much further down river and missed seeing the city from this vantage point.

Entreri tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around. The lake was just as spectacular. She was actually looking up at the lake, which was very odd experience in and of itself. The glassy surface was 30 feet above her, but far enough away, that she could still see the buildings that surrounded it.

"How does it work?" she asked again.

"It is a very simple concept," Entreri explained, "but the parts of the machine have to be huge to accomplish it. There are many large pipes connecting each one of the sections that are divided by these walls. Each pipe has a valve. They open the first valve, filling the first section with water until it is the same level as the lake. They then open the massive door and the ship floats into that section. They then close the door behind it and open the second valve, draining the second section into the third section until they are the same level.

"It keeps going like that until the ship reaches the last section and they lower it to the level of the river. The whole system lowers the ship 40 feet, which might not sound like much, but before these locks were here, that forty foot drop over the course of 200 feet would tear apart any ship that crossed it." Entreri thought back to the raft that had carried Alec down this river. Too bad the locks weren't in place back then.

"How do they open the doors though?" Christine asked. "They must weigh thousands of pounds."

"They do," Entreri agreed. "That is what the gear room is for. They tie a team of horses up to a turnstile and use the gears to create a mechanical advantage. It is an incredible sight to see. I've sent several ships down these locks in the past month."

Christine didn't have anything else to say for a while. The idea that this engineering marvel was in her city only a few blocks from her house amazed her. How had she never taken the time to look at it before? She wondered how many other things in this city had escaped her attention. She wondered if Artemis would show them to her.

She took her eyes away from the river for a moment and turned them on the man she was with. His profile was very striking in the moonlight. He had a strong jaw and a gentle mouth. His skin was without a wrinkle or other blemish, but he had to be close to 40. He held himself like a fighter. She had known a few young men who had been boxers down south, and Artemis moved with the same efficient confidence they had. And there was something in his eyes. They were turned away from her now, but she remembered them from dinner. They held a depth that reminded her of the river. The river was a flat surface, but by reflecting the lights above, it gained the depth of the entire sky. Artemis's eyes had held that same depth as if he had seen many lifetimes, and they reflected through his eyes.

Christine thought about reaching up to his face to turn his eyes toward her, but instead looked off in the direction they were pointed. On the northern side of the gear house, a small man was staggering toward the edge of the dock. He would not be able to get to the southern part of the city without a key to pass through the gear house, but he didn't need to in order to heckle them.

"Hello 'der lovers," he cried out to them, obviously drunk. "How's about a little kissy wissy for me to watch." He took a swig from the bottle he was holding. "You are lovely people."

"I'm sorry about this," Entreri whispered. As the man kept jabbering at them, Entreri looked down and saw a small rock about half the size of his palm on the walkway. He picked it up and threw it toward the drunk.

"Hey, man, watch it, I-" he stopped talking as he saw the rock miss him badly and rattle up in the scaffolding a dozen feet above his head. "Ah ha," he laughed. "You couldn't hit a-" but his voice disappeared as a half full bucket of paint fell on his head. He dropped his bottle, breaking it on the deck and yanked the bucket off his head. His face and shoulders were pure white and he spit out a mouth full of paint. Without another word, he tuned and ran.

Christine gasped with her hand over her mouth when she saw the bucket fall and turned to Entreri. He just smirked and shrugged. She burst out laughing. "You tried to do that? But how?"

"I just aimed at the bucket and gravity did the rest," he said casually.

"That was the funniest . . ." but she burst out laughing again.

Two hours later Entreri walked Christine to her front door. She was still laughing. In fact, after the lock, she had been in a good mood all night without one thought toward her other suitor.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Artemis," she said as they stood in the doorway to her house. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time."

"The pleasure was all mine," Entreri bowed slightly.

"When can I see you again?" she asked, being very forward.

"If you are available, there is another section of the city I would like to show you tomorrow."

Christine looked at him curiously. "What should I wear?"

"If you wear a dress, do not make it as fancy as this one."

Christine nodded, understandingly completely. "Then, I wish you a good night, Artemis Entreri."

"An a good night to you Miss Toole." With that, they turned away from each other. Entreri trotted down the short stairway to the circle drive where his carriage was waiting. At the door, he finally let out a sigh he had been holding all night. "I hope this works."

He knew that the only way to beat these vampires was to make them play his game. In order to get them in that situation though, he first needed to play their game. He hoped he was doing it right.

Christine practically floated up the stairs. It was almost midnight, so she did not meet anyone on her way to her room. Her father had thought about staying up for her, but the whole point of scouting out each man he had invited to the party first was to ensure that if any of them did end up courting his daughter, there would be nothing for him to worry about. Besides, he had to remind himself that she wasn't his little girl anymore.

Christine opened the door to her room and was met with darkness. Familiar with the layout of her room, she easily made her way over to the lamp next to her bed. She lighted it with a match and then reached back to undo her dress. She had asked Miriam to help her into the dress, but she did not want wake the maid now. It was closed in the back with five bows, and it should be far easier to untie them by herself than it would have been the other way around.

Her hand snaked around to her lower back, and she easily undid the bottom bow. Her hand worked its way up slowly, finding the appropriate length of ribbon and pulling gently. It wasn't until there was one left at the top that she had problems. It was the tightest one, and just out of reach.

She readjusted her arms, going over the top of her shoulder instead. "Let me help you," a voice spoke from the shadows behind her, and the bow came suddenly undone.

Christine shrieked, spun around and stepped back suddenly. She bumped her nightstand hard, and as the lamp began to fall, so did her dress. She quickly decided on the dress, clutching at the straps with clenched hands under her chin, hugging her forearms tightly to her chest. The lamp thudded onto a thick rug next her bed. It didn't break, but it went out, casting the room into darkness.

"You," she said breathlessly. The only light came from the bedroom window, the drapes were blown about by a cool night breeze casting eerie shadows across the room, but Fredrick's face seemed to be cast in a soft glow. The light came from his eyes, and those eyes stared into her now.

Though her body was completely covered from the front, the idea that all she had to do was let go of her dress and she would be standing in front of this man in nothing but her britches, brought her extreme discomfort. This man had just broken into her room, frightened her to death, and had been torturing her mind for the past three days, yet something about him made her want to let go.

Just as Entreri had been able to make her feel safe, this man made her scared, but there was some primal urge in her that wanted to be hurt, that needed to be frightened. She fought those urges now and held on to the dress.

"I've been waiting here for you all night, my sweet. Where have you been?"

"I . . . I was out," she replied defensively.

"With whom?"

"Nobody."

Fredrick looked over to her bed, and she followed his glance. In the faint light she could see Entreri's note lying on her bed. She turned back to Fredrick, and he lurched at her. He moved the six feet that had separated them in a heartbeat and clutched fiercely at Christine's arms. She let go of the dress with her hands, but continued to clutch it to her chest.

"What is his name?" Fredrick asked, his eyes three inches from hers.

"Entreri," she squeaked. "Artemis Entreri."

"Who is he?"

"Just some northerner."

"Why?"

"Because you weren't here!" she spat back, finding some hidden courage.

Fredrick laughed in her face. "I am here now, my love. What did you want to do?"

Christine didn't answer. Christine didn't know the answer. She wanted so many things. She wanted to talk, to make love, to lash out at him, to kiss him, to have Entreri burst in and drop a bucket of paint on him. She didn't know what she wanted.

"What do you want to do, my lovely?" he asked again, tugging on her arms. Her dress slipped down a ways, revealing an inch of cleavage before she pulled back.

Fredrick laughed again, seeing the conflicting emotions inside her. Christine missed Entreri. With him, she had been doing the laughing. She didn't like it the other way around. "I don't even know you," she finally replied.

"Don't you though, my dear? Have you not dreamed of me every night? Have you not thought of me every minute of the past days? Even tonight, as your handsome Art led you around town, was not your every thought, your every desire focused on me?" He let her think about that for a while. Though she had escaped his hold on her mind for a couple hours at the end, they seemed a distant memory compared to the constant presence he had had in her mind before.

"What is my name?"

Christine did not answer right away and Fredrick shook her. "What is my name? I know you have dreamed of me each night. Surely you have screamed my name during your dreams. Tell me. What is my name?"

"Domina-" she started to shout, but caught herself. "Dominick," she said in a whisper. "Your name is Dominick."

Fredrick had heard what she had started to say first: Dominate. He smiled broadly. Dominick would do just fine. He suddenly pulled her arms away from her body and hugged her close before the dress could fall even an inch more. His hands caressed her bare skin from her shoulders down to her lower back. He reached around her, his hands feeling under her dress, along her side, and over her hips.

"Don't worry, my love. I will never leave you again."

Christine trembled in his arms, but she did not fight him. He turned her toward the bed and leaned her back away from him, supporting her with his strong arms. He looked upon her perfect skin, illuminated by the moonlight from outside. Her neck was bare, and it throbbed at him, but he fought back the urge, instead taking in the rest of her features. "You are truly the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

Dominick laid her down on the bed completely, her dress still hanging on barely. "I can not stay with you tonight - not yet - but I will be back tomorrow night, and I shall show you the city like you have never seen before. Now sleep my child." He bent down and kissed her forehead.

With that, the vampire turned and fled the room, disappearing behind the drapes and off the edge of the balcony. Christine lay on her bed underneath her wrinkled dress. She lay there with a thousand emotions running through her. She lay there and wept.