VII. Daring the Devil

Van Helsing studied the first few pages of the handwritten book in complete silence. His face bore a deep frown as his eyes ran up and down the timeworn paper. The list of names that told him nothing at all spilled across seven pages, put down in small, almost calligraphic letters.

"Such a long list," he said at last.

"None of the recently dead or missing are listed here." Leah rested her elbows on the table. She sighed and fixed her eyes on the book, her face blank. "There has been no one to keep it up to date."

His frown seemed to deepen as Gabriel slowly turned the page and, raising his head, he met the woman's eyes. "All of those have died at the hands of just one vampire?" he asked at last.

"We don't know how many of them live there," said Leah, shaking her head. "Four have been spotted, but I wouldn't trust that count. How many lurk in the castle, and how many Ghoul servants they keep, is unknown."

Van Helsing looked thoughtful, his head slightly bowed. Leah allowed herself to keep her eyes upon his face a little longer than it was necessary, as the memory of the eerie vision she had experienced washed over her with new intensity. She searched his face, but the man seemed heedless of her stare. Leah rose from her chair and leaned against the window, taking his silence as her cue to continue.

"For fourteen years my family had kept a record of all people who had disappeared without a trace. That's the first two pages. It's up to you to decide whether they didn't know exactly what fate those men met, or if they just refused to accept it," she said grimly. A brief glance in his direction was countered with a blatant question written in Van Helsing's face, so she added, "No one ever spoke of it aloud."

Gabriel shrugged and resumed flipping the pages. He lingered on each of them for a longer while, holding still as he focused. His search for a name that would strike the cord of familiarity within him proved vain. "The list is longer than that," he spoke at length.

Leah nodded. "The rest are those who have been found. Dead. Slaughtered. Some were hard to identify-"

"They fought," Van Helsing interrupted, glancing up at her. He met her gaze and held it up briefly; he seemed surprised to see Leah quickly look away.

"Nothing could have saved them," she said bitterly. Pushing the images of horror back in her mind was her way of coping with such memories. At times, it seemed like the only way. She sat down, biting her lower lip and idly turned a couple of pages. "I was eight years old when this hell broke loose. During the fourteen years of terror that followed, the number of people in this land has decreased as much because of the undead, as because those who still had some reason left, escaped."

"So much for the renowned defiance of the Irish." Gabriel smirked half-heartedly.

Leah caught him in an eye-to-eye stare. She leaned her face in close, a clear hint of anger blazing in her otherwise cold eyes. "Van Helsing," she hissed, "We're talking about over a thousand people here. Do yourself a favor and save your sarcasm for some other time."

His brow shot up at such a fierce response, yet something withheld his retort. Letting out a silent sigh, Van Helsing dropped his gaze under the pressure of hers.

"Some were strangers none had seen before," Leah continued after a pause. As quickly as she had previously gone into a verbal assault, she now went back to stoic calm. "Some were my friends. It didn't matter. The vampires fed on us just the same." For a short moment she drummed her fingers on the table, then she looked away. "Don't question their reasons for leaving. They were scared. Said there's a curse at work here and all who stay are doomed to die."

Van Helsing sought eye contact with her as she spoke, but whether or not Leah felt his gaze focused on her, she ignored it. "But it stopped," he said slowly. The seventh page, where the last name closed the long list, bore a date: 1878.

"Eleven years ago." Leah looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "One day, they just left this land. Or so it seemed. Though the folks hoped for it more than I was inclined to believe."

Gabriel frowned. "Why?"

"Now and then some would still go missing. They've never been found." Her hand halted, hovering above the book and her face turned to stone. "A few graves have been robbed. Strange that those whose bodies just vanished at night were the most rowdy men known around here. They disappeared no more than a week after they were buried." She let out a long sigh. "Still, all of that was infrequent, until the fall of last year. That's when everything began once again."

Her face set and focused, Leah continued slowly turning the pages. She went past the long passages of records; half-true, fear-painted tales, told by peasants who were unfortunate enough to have seen the vampires on the hunt. She did not stop until she found the page she was looking for. It showed a drawing of a rather handsome man, roughly forty years old. Her eyes narrowed in a sudden, sweeping wave of emotion and her palms went damp. She did not need to look at that face to summon its image in her mind at any given time.

The sound of Van Helsing clearing his throat brought her back to the present. She looked up, when he asked if anyone had ever tried to kill the vampire prince.

"Too many to count," she replied coldly. Her mouth was dry, yet suddenly she realized that it was not merely caused by the confrontation with the image of her enemy. She licked her lips and forced herself to keep her gaze leveled with Van Helsing's. "The hunters came from all over Ireland," she continued. "Countless peasants have also tried. They sought revenge, but all they found was death." Her voice dropped until it was unusually quiet. "None have succeeded. None have returned."

Gabriel leaned against the table. The candle light was faint; his hair cast black shadows on the page. As the flame flickered on a small breath of wind, the shadows danced across the paper. For a split second it seemed as though the face that was pictured there had come alive.

Leah turned that page with anger, and then another. Her hand was slightly trembling. She opened the book on a set of hand-drawn maps, consoling herself with a deep breath. "These are the places where bodies were found." The spots were marked with crosses, so numerous all across the whole of County Cork county that it would prove too challenging to count. "These," she pointed to black dots, scattered and fewer in number, "show where the vampires were seen."

Gabriel locked eyes with the huntress. "Those were not men that interrupted our fight," he said, remembering the sudden break in their duel, and the unexpected encounter from the previous night. "They were too small, even for a child."

Leah shrugged her shoulders and shook her head 'no'. "It would seem that not only humans fall under their spells. Alive or undead, many do their bidding. Bats, horses, God knows what else."

"Scouts," Van Helsing nodded thoughtfully.

"Possibly." Leah leaned back in her chair, wincing a little as she did so. Now, as the tension had begun to subside, she slowly noticed her body was growing sore. Having resolved to try and ignore it, at least for the time being, she shifted her sight back to the man and returned to leaning against the tabletop. "They fear no one and nothing and like in the past, they don't even conceal their presence at all. The people are frightened. Few dare leave their homes after dusk."

Gabriel smirked. "None save those for whom there's a big bounty at stake."

Try as she might, Leah couldn't imagine he would ever stop mocking her about it. "And those who claim to have come to help." Indeed, she mused. There was a challenge in the very look in his eyes.

The hardly feigned calm didn't reach his eyes. "You're daring the Devil," he said.

Something in the tone of his voice told Leah that he knew well of what he spoke. "So are you," she retorted.

"That's the bright side of this job."

The smile that bloomed on his face was designed to look genuine, she knew. Perhaps even soothing. Yet, she could not be deceived; not after having spent so many years risking her own life in a strangely alike way. Leah tilted her head. "Is it, now? What's the dark side, then?"

Gabriel's face grew serious as he said, "The one I'm hoping not to see once I go into that castle."

"That alone tells me you must have lost your mind," said Leah, and rose to her feet. She took a few steps, then stopped in her tracks. She could feel Van Helsing's sight on her back, and turned around. The man regarded her curiously. "So, your task is to kill him," she said. "For once, our purposes do not contradict."

As he rose also, Leah felt her heart quicken its pace. When he was just a step away from her, within an arm's reach, her breath stuck in her throat. A quick tirade ran through her mind, for she caught herself showing the signs of her unease. She spent all focus she could spare on bracing herself.

Van Helsing looked at her closely. "I work alone," he said.

"So do I." Her voice trembled. She took a deep breath. "Perhaps that's why Liam is still alive. If alive is what you can call it."

---

The night's grip of steel tightened on them both, as the minutes passed slowly and silence lay between them. Leah found herself having to tend to something or other at all times. Her own thoughts stirred her blood if only she let herself sit idle. Strange, how restless she felt if she held still for but a while.

By the time all the broken glass had vanished from the floor and the woman rose, steadying herself, for she felt slightly lightheaded, she knew that the night would soon begin to wane. She looked around. The house brought memories; some of them were sweet, and she often found herself going back in time to the years of her youth. Yet some were dark, and at times she wished she had no memory of them at all. All was quiet in the house, and somehow she knew that it would always stay that way. The times when that place rang with joy belonged to the past. She had long since accepted that fact.

Her sight wandered to Gabriel's tall figure, resting on the bed. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Whether the man was asleep, or merely watched her, when she turned around, with those chestnut eyes that haunted her thoughts, she did not know.

Sighing, she warmed more water; she would need it. She couldn't resist watching Van Helsing - from distance, and yet with great care. Six years before, she would have given anything and everything for a chance to kill him. His cunning tricks truly managed to drive her to impossible fury. Four years ago, that wish had nearly come true. Now, that man she had sworn to hunt down was right there, in her family house, and he was no prisoner, as she used to like to imagine him. To her own surprise, Leah found herself unable to think of him that way anymore. Silently, she was grateful that the bullet she had fired in Dublin had gone astray. Thinking she had rid the world of evil, she would have had the blood of that man on her hands. And whoever he was, he could not be evil.

As quietly as she could, Leah gathered all she needed and headed for the small room.

---

Placing a candle on a chair, Leah looked around. A sudden thought prompted her to walk back to the door. She leaned against the wall, just in such distance so that the light from the main room would not accidentally spill on her tall silhouette. Having left the door slightly ajar, she could hear the faint sound of Van Helsing's shallow, irregular breaths. It told her that he was asleep - or so it seemed. Try as she might, she could not rid herself of the strange feeling that gnawed at her stomach. The feeling of familiarity that almost beamed in his eyes as she looked into them; she knew he must have seen the same in her, too.

Nonetheless, it was far from being enough of a reason for her to trust him. To trust that he would not, after all, turn out to be the murderer most of the world believed him to be, was too reckless even in her book. A part of her was, perhaps, ready to grant him some amount of trust. But her reason was not.

Her eyes half-closed, Leah listened to his soft breathing that gradually began to calm as it caught on the steady rhythm. Yet, it still wasn't the sound that signified peaceful sleep, such as that one would hear in a child. Neither the hunters nor the hunted ever really slept. That must have been one of the first things she had learned eleven years before, when she claimed her first bounty. The man she had caught had sworn revenge, and long after the fear of it haunted her dreams, never letting her sleep peacefully again.

Even as the list of her completed tasks had grown long over the years, some things never went back to what they had been like before that day when she first earned money on her own. Even though, in time, that fear had gone away into nothing but a faint memory, the constant vigilance remained. It was one of many traits of a hunter that was of purely contradictory nature: both desired and loathed. It was of little comfort to know that no wanted man knew peaceful sleep either.

She could not help but wonder, as she glanced quickly beyond the door at his figure resting on the bed, under which category would Van Helsing fall. For years he had been prey to her, a man to find and eliminate. Yet his skills were those of a fine hunter, trained and driven not only by the need to survive. Who are you? she kept asking in her mind, knowing no answer would come, unless in time. Perhaps a bit of both. Fighting back the haunting thoughts, she sighed and slowly paced across the room.

The hot water steamed, leaving small pearls of sweat on her face as Leah leaned over the bucket. She closed her eyes, absorbing the warmth and the comfort it brought with it. Even if it couldn't ease the tension that still kept her mind uneasy, perhaps it could bring a little relief to her body. Her back burned; only now she began to feel the aftermath of a fall from the horse under the weight of the large man. Wincing, she carefully took off her tunic; but the shirt underneath had stuck to her skin as blood dried out on it. She grimaced and sucked in a breath with a long hiss, trying to tear it away.

Lack of sleep in over three days had made her slightly nauseous; no pain would have been bothersome as much as was the fear of not being watchful enough, if she was so careless as to close her eyes for but a short moment.

She reached to her back, in another failed attempt to remove the fabric from her wounds. Before she managed to curse herself for not having done it earlier, her hand was caught in a firm yet gentle hold. With a sharp movement she turned around, tearing her shirt from her back. She groaned and looked up, meeting a pair of chestnut eyes that stared at her intently.

"Do you always enter without knocking?" she barked, breaking her hand free from Van Helsing's grasp. She should have known he would trick her again. Angry more at herself than at the man, she pulled her shirt down and stared intently into his face.

Van Helsing seemed unconcerned by having surprised her in such manner. "Only when the door is open," he spoke lightly.

Leah rolled her eyes, and turned away from him. "You're not exactly expecting me to believe that?"

Slowly, Gabriel lifted the hem of her shirt. The woman's head turned and she cast him a questioning look. It was his turn to almost roll his eyes, but Van Helsing chose to only raise an eyebrow meaningfully. "I can only return the favor," he said.

Leah sighed and handed a wet cloth to him. "A form of a thank-you, I take it?"

Gabriel smiled ever so slightly; in his eyes there was a wistful reflection of his thoughts that wandered along some unknown paths. His gentle hands slowly hovered over Leah's neck, brushing away her hair. The huntress leaned forth, supporting herself on the chair, and bit down her lower lip at the first touch to her back. Darkness surrounded her swiftly as soon as she closed her eyes. That had left her needlessly focused on the stings of pain in her skin. But, something was distracting, so distracting that she opened her eyes in an instant, and shuddered.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said softly, withdrawing his hands as she turned around.

Leah's eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of his face. Van Helsing returned the stare, the corners of his lips drawing up in a small smile. Once more, the huntress caught herself drifting away into a strange realm of visions of what was, what had been, and what could possibly be the meaning of all this. Just being there, in that faintly lit room, with that man, who had changed in her eyes over just a night, had left her puzzled and perturbed.

Suddenly she felt her skin crawl as Gabriel's hand wandered up, as if absently, and his fingers entangled with a strand of her hair. Instantly it rendered her vulnerable to the charm of such intimacy. That alone drove her to distraction, away from the path of clear mind she had sworn she would not stray from at any cost. Beneath a fall of dark hair, Gabriel's brown eyes regarded her carefully, locking with her own as she met his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat, yet she would not even notice, were it not for the eerie silence that suddenly made her heartbeat seem to echo in the walls of the small room. Driven by something she couldn't nor wanted to understand - by the searing fire behind her eyes, the strange dryness of her throat, so bizarre while her lips were wet, Leah slowly sneaked her hands around his neck.

In her mind's eye she saw what her eyes could not see. For a split second, all she was sure of was that, behind the distant look in his unfocused eyes, that man, who drove her straight down the road of passion, saw the same promise of freedom neither of them knew. All bonds and constraints had gone up in flames, just to disappear, as the invisible barrier between them collapsed. Shrouded in shadows of the masks they had put on for the sake of their game, it now called for its right to surface, leading her will to command her palms to travel across the warm realm of his skin.

No, it could not be real. She never knew his smell, so primal and raw, as she knew it now. Surrounding her, it made her tremble with fear and desire and craving she tried to resist, yet failed. It snatched her mind, her life as she knew it, and the leftovers of reason fled the instant his face was just right next to hers. Suddenly, his breath was one with hers, his lips so close to hers and yet still so far, farther than she wished them to be.

He didn't need to look into her face, that seemed as though it were curved from stone, to know every line, each texture. The warmth that beamed from her entire being, her inviting arms, all of her rendered his heart and his mind and his hands impatient beyond reason. Her hands sought their way to his, her fingers tangled with his cast him straight into the pit of pure madness. That madness had her face, her eyes that spoke of all no words could ever tell, and her silky voice that dropped until he could hear it no more save in his mind. Now it whispered his name between quickly drawn breaths.

Who are you? Gabriel's chaotic mind wailed, as he forced himself to keep his focus on the woman beside him. He knew that face, he knew it so well and, with a blink of an eye, it no longer mattered how, or why.

She felt his rapid breath on her swollen lips, and the world kept twirling around her. Soon she remembered nothing save the touch of his skin under her hand, and felt nothing save her body growing weightless as he drew her close, capturing her lips with his own. She closed her eyes, powerless against the wild waves of warmth that flew through her, invading the tiniest fibers of her body, darting through her mind. In an instant she knew; his taste was not new, not unfamiliar, but rather like the return of something missed and longed for, beyond both insanity and reason.

How did she know? The question pounded in his mind, in a furious unison with his racing heart. No longer forbidden, the taste of her was sweeter than it had ever been. No longer snatched in secrecy, and under the pain of guilt and the danger of shame, the caress of her lips was growing wild by the second, leaving him breathless and crawling at the feet of Desire, craving ever more to feed this hopeless addiction to her skin. Now he knew; the world could collapse here and now and it wouldn't matter. All that mattered was that touch and that moment, and her skin by his skin and all where he ended and she began.

Her hands searched their way to his face, lips unwilling to part with his, against a voice in her mind that screamed that it could not be anything but another game. But, his eyes spoke of truth as she looked into them. She let out a small gasp upon their reluctant parting. Cursed be reason if it hushed that hunger, when it proved itself strong enough to force her to tear away from him. Gasping for breath, Leah dropped her gaze.

"I think that makes up for my lost reward," she spoke in hoarse whisper as she leaned into him. Her cheek brushed lightly against his. As if on cue, she felt swept out of reality on a great wave of emotion. Gabriel's hair tickled her skin. With the remnant of reason, she pulled away.

Van Helsing closed his eyes and smiled, but Leah was already gone. Slowly he turned around, looking to where she had vanished. The only signs of her ever being there were the door, swinging as she pushed it, and her tunic, cast carelessly across the chair.

He would leave her to her own thoughts, though the sudden urge to follow her proved hard to resist. The line between reality and dream blurred in his own mind; the images he saw as their lips met were not those he would have seen, had his eyes been open. Yet the will to discover their source took place of confusion, even though he resolved to let time reveal more pieces of that puzzle.

That night, he hoped more than ever that the pieces of his past would finally fall into place.

---

Leah collapsed on the chair, her breathing labored and her heart exceeding all of its limits. She hid her face in her hands, slowly shaking her head. Try as she might, she could not shrug off the memory of the past few minutes, still so vivid in her mind. She focused on her breathing until her heart slowed down. Gradually, as the time passed, her body heeded the plea of her mind to let go of passion, and allow her to rest.

She did not even notice when sleep came over her, and it took her swiftly in its soothing embrace.

---

The approaching dawn chased away the gray remnants of the night, when Leah awoke in her bed. Stretching her stiffened muscles, she reached out her arms. She froze abruptly, when her hand landed on something soft. In an instant her eyes shot open and she looked to her right. Her eyebrow climbed into her hairline at the sight on Van Helsing, still sound asleep, lying by her side.

Sleep released her from its grasp in an instant, just as she realized that she did not remember lying down. Not by Van Helsing's side. Not at all. She frowned, her stare fixed upon his face. The peaceful look she saw there had somehow managed to sweep all anger away. She could only suspect how she found herself on that bed, and her head shook in a mix of disbelief at the man's incorrigibility, and some strange sort of amusement.

Quiet, careful not to wake him, Leah moved away her hand from the man's chest, and rolled onto her side. She watched him for a while, a faint smile playing in the corner of her lips. She watched him draw slow, undisturbed breaths, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Unmoving she lay, studying the curves of his face, his dark hair spread across the small pillow.

The makeshift bandage on his arm was stained with blood, but since he showed no signs of fever, Leah didn't find it particularly worrying. Gabriel stirred lightly as she rose, yet his eyes remained closed. She slipped out of the bed, slowly, and watched him sleep from the corner of her eye.

Then she remembered. All the events of the previous night returned to her sharp and clear. Still slightly puzzled, she paced the room and looked outside. The fog lay low, covering the land far ahead with its silky blanket. The first light of the newborn day called out to her with its tranquil whispers to walk outside the house.

The land was quiet, not like she remembered it from the years of her childhood. Long ago, upon the coming of the first light in the morn, the woods sang along with the bright voices of children; men and women welcoming the sun as they went about their chores. Now, even the faint song of the birds was rare; an ominous silence lay about the land, a reminder of what had come to pass in the recent years. That evil had left its mark on it was painfully clear; the folks that had of old held that territory in their possession had long since traded the fading beauty of the woods for the safety of their lives.

Wrapping her arms around herself with a small sigh, Leah sat on the doorstep. She looked to the East, where the sun had just begun its journey up the morning sky. She remembered how she used to enjoy it; the simple pleasure of seeing how nature unfolded its wonders before the curious eyes of a quiet witness. Yet, now her thoughts wandered. That man - she instantly knew she would call him a murderer no more - he somehow managed to summon the longing she had so long concealed deep within her. She found him so strangely similar; there was blood on her hands as there was on his. Not the blood of the innocent, but blood nonetheless. And she knew; there was more than just passion that brought them together. What it was, she both wished and feared to find out.

The wind sang far in the treetops, its humming soft and soothing. The high branches bent to its will, obedient to the morning's call, to welcome home the one whom they had once thought lost. Leah looked up, her vision blurred as she stared straight into the rising sun, savoring its charm. Yet, in all the delight there was a faint shadow of grief, as yet unspoken, passing across her face. That which had been her light in the darkness, her call to return, was slowly fading into nothing but a memory. She began to hum absently, and she no longer saw what lay before her.

I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red
and round the World I will beg for bread
until my parents would wish me dead.
Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán...

Siúl, siúl, siúl, a rúin
Siúl go socair agus siúl go ciúin
Siúl go doras agus ealaigh liom
Is go dté tú mo mhúirnín slán...

"Those are sad words."

Leah turned abruptly to the sound of a voice behind her, the song breaking off as she looked up. Her eyes met with Van Helsing's for a splinter of a second, yet she chose not to hold up his gaze. The playful look she had come to see before was gone from his face, the last thing she noticed before turning to the blinding sun. "Some say that all good cannot live an eternal life. Sooner or later it's bound to be countered with evil."

"So they say. For the good, it is all a test of faith," Gabriel spoke thoughtfully. He moved slowly toward her and sat down on the threshold, his gaze turned to the East. "But it is not what you sang of."

"I felt the urge to provide some contradiction to this splendor." She feigned a smirk, pointing to the sun. Then her eyes unfocused and she smiled to herself; a truly genuine smile, summoned by a memory that ran through her mind. "We used to do that, as children," she said. "We would make up silly songs and sing them every morning." She broke off, turning to her companion. "Did I wake you up?"

Their gazes locked for a split second, and instantly she understood the answer. It stunned her, yet that realization was far from unpleasant. She could read his face like an open book; it was new, and it caught her off-guard. "I've been told to keep my lips sealed far too many times, but around here, I'm known as one who seldom takes heed of good advice," she said.

Gabriel laughed. Leah thought to herself that she had never heard him laugh so sincerely. She shot him a grin. "It's true." She laughed too, and felt as though suddenly a stone had been lifted from her chest. And it had been, if only for a short, precious moment. She knew that she would remember that moment, among others she had collected to summon when the times were dark. Then she grew serious once more; the bright light of the day served all too well as an acute reminder that there still was a task at hand. "If you haven't changed your mind overnight, there's someone who might help us get the job done," she said. "I don't know about you, but I have no intention to go in straight to get myself killed. I believe we should see him."

Van Helsing rose to his feet, and looked down on the huntress. "I see you haven't changed your mind, either."

"I seldom do." She sensed the banter coming; she would continue playing along. "I can't let my to-kill list shrink too much."

"Has anyone told you that you've lost your mind?" asked Gabriel, regarding her with a smirk.

Leah gave him a light punch as she stepped past him and entered the house. "Too many to count."

---

Heads turned as their horses trotted through the village. Some men raised pitchforks and shovels at the suspicious-looking couple, working their way through the main lane. Some stepped forth, their heads inclined in recognition. Some backed away, shaking their heads disapprovingly, while others whispered quietly among each other. Some pointed fingers, yet those were few. No face bore a smile; wide eyes of children followed Van Helsing and Leah until the hunters vanished from their sight.

At the end of the village, where the thick forest hid the road between its ancient trees stood a house. Distanced from other households it was, yet it did not appear abandoned. A wooden cart at its front looked prepared to leave, with several potato sacks piled up one on another. The horse whinnied impatiently at the sight of an old man, slowly limping his way down the stairs.

Leah pulled the reins and smiled. The man's head quickly turned the instant he realized that the newcomers apparently had business with his farm. Time sprinkled his long hair with silver, and wrinkles ran deep across his face, betraying the hardships he had endured in his long life. Yet his eyes still reflected the strength that was once his greatest weapon, back in the times when Leah looked up to him in wonder. He stood his ground, his face brightening with a faint hint of recognition upon seeing the woman. Then he looked to Van Helsing, mounted upon his steed by Leah's side, and the old man's face turned to stone.

Leah jumped to the ground. She kept eye contact with the man as she approached, and slightly bowed her head in greeting.

"Leah Connor," the man spoke at last, extending his arm toward the huntress. "How long has it been? Five, six years?"

"Padraig O'Hely." Leah smiled warmly, but found herself having to swallow down the fear as she caught the man glancing past her at her companion. No matter how many years had passed, she knew the old man was not inclined to forget. Having thought briefly that she was sure to do all but forget him, either, she took his hand in both of hers. Then she looked briefly over her shoulder.

"This is-"

"Gabriel Van Helsing," the man said in a surprisingly calm, almost hollow, voice. "I know who he is."

---

Revised version uploaded on Aug 9th 2004

First of all, there's a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter =) So read carefully. It will click in due time ;)

Second, to my lovely readers and reviewers:

Abraon: Love, you've been such great help to me. Not only with this, but with the whole story. I'm telling you, together we're going to rule the world. So, where do we start? ::snicker:

Artemis1860: I'm really glad you're hooked ;) I hope you still are. I had such great fun writing this chapter, I do hope that you enjoyed reading it also.

VeronaDracula: Actually, that part had me go really emotional as well ::smirk:: Really. If you read this chapter, you saw how it unfolded, and I can tell you that THAT part was one of the most emotional things I've ever written. I hope you liked it ;)

ElvenPirate: ::Waves:: How about now, as far as romantic/smutty stuff goes? Though this is not really smutty. It really isn't ::snicker:: If you ever think it's smutty, you should read some of my Matrix fanfiction =P

Wonda: I'm writing these responses now as you're reading the chapter, still before the rest of the world can see it, and I'm really dying to know what you think =P I'm glad you found personal reference in chapter 6. Maybe you also managed to find some here. I always try to write things that people [and I myself] can relate too. Best writing is that which stems from life.