Author's Note: Thank you for the wonderful reviews, hope you enjoy this new chapter. I tried to weave in some of the answers to your questions into the chapter, sorry if I didn't get to yours. Forgive any spelling or grammar mistakes. Again, enjoy and review!

Chapter Two:

Catherine of Tenneberg regarded herself in the mirror for a long time without moving. She was no longer the beauty that used to turn heads at court, that much was a painfully clear, but she still had that innate fire that burned behind her eyes that caused men to take notice. Her reddish brown hair had begun to turn gray around her face and the lines that steamed from the corner of her eyes were becoming clearer every winter. But her eyes still blazed. Powerful and deep, her green eyes had always stayed with people long after they had talked. Catherine had made a habit of looking people in the eye when she spoke to them (unheard of for a woman to do) but she had learned quickly that this brashness earned her respect instantly.

For a woman, even one as well to do as she was, Catherine knew at a very young age that this would be one of the very few tangible powers she could hold on her own. The power struggle was inherently a boys-only game that she was only privy to glimpse through her husbands or any male offspring she would give them. This did not boded well with Catherine and shortly after this revelation occurred to her, she set out to change it. She began to transform herself. She employed the best moralists, philosophers and novelists to instruct her on the matters of society- on what was socially acceptable and what was required for a lady to be revered and respected but even more important; they taught what people fought so hard to hide. She learned the taboos, vices, secrets and lusts that men kept hidden away in dark corners of their souls and used it to crave out a piece of the world for herself and when her skills as a seductress and blackmailer didn't work, she always had her black magic.

As she placed a grandiose necklace around her neck, she thought idly that she had not always been this callous.

She had, at first, resigned herself to that fate. She married out of love to a low ranking official in the King's court and had done her duties as wife: hosting parties, spying on rivals and giving him a son and heir, Feodor. What she got for all her hard work was a husband who never excelled beyond his lowly rank and ended up drinking himself into a stupor and dying in the bed of an illiterate 13-year-old maid. Large debts her husband had left after his passing stripped Catherine of his lands, riches and any dignity she would have in the Court. To remain in the manner she was accustomed to, Catherine was forced to marry an outsider; the King's pet Gypsy who had made himself a favorite in court by his thrilling campaigns against the Moors.

Valerious' victories along the borders with the Ottoman Empire, especially with the battle at Varna had earned Valerious the title of Count by King Casimir IV and a membership in the Order of the Dracul, or Dragon. She remembered ruefully those first few encounters with Valerious Dracul at court. She had loved the brutality and savagery that was breed in his eyes, and had laughed with the other women at his other worldliness, thrilled the same way one is thrilled by observing a tiger or other man-eater. She had taken his advantages and encouraged them, and when it came the time, she had accepted his invitation and the promise of the power and lands that came with it.

Catherine inhaled sharply as cheers broke through her bedroom window, breaking through her reverie and forcing to mind a cruel truth she despised. Outside, Vaseria was coming out in droves to welcome back their patron Count. Balling her hands into tight fists, Catherine studied the window for a long time, debating if she really wanted to walk and look out, knowing that she would see Vladislaus smiling face grinning up at her mockingly.

He had always been a thorn in her side. As Valerious firstborn son, Vladislaus, not her sons, stood to inherit Valerious' ample fortunes, lands and the title of Count. Her son Feodor would be left with nothing, while her youngest, Valerious (named after his father) would live at the mercy of his older brother. Vladislaus was the only thing that was keeping her from the power she worked so hard and sacrificed so much for. She hated that smug boy with all her being but knew, painfully, that disposing of him must be done quietly and precisely.

She had already set the plan into motion after all. She didn't need to sabotage herself by striking Vladislaus directly. He'd damn himself in his own time, in his own way. All she had to do was wait. And once he was gone, all she needed to do was dispose of her husband.

She licked her lips hungrily at the idea of power being so close within her grasp. Looking down at her aging hands, she smiled at the power that would soon be there. This whole area, almost a kingdom in itself, would be hers. The Devil had been kind to her, and kept his promises.

God would have kept her a slave to her husband. She had to admit; she liked her new employer better.

"Do you hear them?" Feodor asked as he walked into her room. He took after her, both in his auburn hair that fell in short tresses over his green eyes and in loyalty to their mutual employer. He also shared her taste for the finer things in life, and that was evident in his gold and while outfit. He was staring at her windows, as he crossed to her. "Do you, mother? Baying like cattle for that pompous lout."

"Careful, Feodor." Catherine soothed as she rose to embrace her son. Her arms found his waist as he moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around hers. She slid her hands under his tunic to touch his bare skin and trace the line of his pants. She smiled as he inhaled from the touch. "The servants might hear you."

"Let them hear me!" He growled. "I'm tired of bowing and scraping to such a thing."

"I told you, we must be patient with this if we want it to succeed." Feodor craned his head and looked his mother in the face. He kept glancing at her lips, watching them with an intensity akin to a wolf observing his prey. She suppressed an excited shutter and continued. "When is the next full moon?"

"Two days from now, why?" He smiled. "Have you finally chosen another target?"

"Perhaps. You'll have to wait and see." Catherine pulled away as Feodor reached in for a kiss and smiled to herself as he growled, angry to be denied his prize. "Now, go and greet your brother with a kiss."

The smell. It always began with the smell. Gabriel tried to turn away from the smell but knew this was a futile effort and, as it always did after the smell, the noise came. Loud, chaotic, like the prison, voices and the sound of metal against metal resounded over each other, reaching up to Heaven. Gabriel felt himself fall to his knees in the middle of the pandemonium. He coughed as dust filled his lungs and flinched as he felt the sun beat on his sweat soaked face. Someone was calling to him, screaming in a tongue he did not understand. He looked up, staring at the dark skinned person who was calling to him and motioning with his sword. Gabriel frowned as the man began to wave the sword, pointing behind him to where apparently some unknown thing was coming towards them.

Looking around, Gabriel realized he was in a compound, built of stone and ancient in its construction, and hundreds-maybe thousands- of his fellow people were milling about, screaming to each other. He looked back down and noticed the sand was becoming mud as it mixed with blood. Fear began to flood his body as he forced himself up. He stumbled back, looking around desperately for Vladislaus. Dracula had always protected him before, why had he failed him now?

He heard the scream of a child, and swung about towards its direction. He watched in horror as a woman, probably the mother, drew the blade from the baby's small body, looking upward and screaming to the heavens. She then turned the blade on herself and fell upon it.

Gabriel gasped and took two steps back. He shouted Vlad's name out, begging God to let his friend hear him. He spun around again, only to stiffen as he felt a sharp, piercing pain in his stomach. He looked down and stared in disbelief at the sword jutting from his gut. He tried to scream but terror took his voice as he watched, dumbly, as the blade was pulled from his stomach. He looked up and saw the face of the man who had been calling to him earlier.

The soldier met his eyes, and smiled sadly at him before falling to his knees and driving the sword through his own heart. Gabriel shuttered as he fell back, clutching at his stomach, and wondering why he felt no physical pain. As darkness overcame him, Gabriel felt the thick blackness pour into his lungs, suffocating him. He wondered idly, if this was finally his end, and maybe now, all the pain would stop.

Maybe now…he could rest.

"Gabriel! Gabriel!"

The darkness receded as quickly as it had come, and Gabriel opened his eyes to find Vlad's face searching his. He felt Dracula's hands gripping his shoulders and a second later, the sensation of being shook took over.

"Ow." Gabriel whined as he sat up, curling into Vlad's arms.

Vladislaus exhaled the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He glared at Gabriel. "Damn you, Gadjo!" He hissed. "Don't do that to me!"

Gabriel's fingers curled around Vlad's left hand, finding the ring and playing with it. He made sure he was shaking to provide a proper diversion. Vlad didn't even realize what was happening. He was too concerned with his friend's paleness to notice anything else.

"You had another dream, didn't you?"

Gabriel stopped, and looked away. He didn't know what to say to Vladislaus to make it better and in truth, didn't really believe it could be done. These nightmares had plagued him his entire life, robbing him of his sleep and sometimes, he feared, his sanity. They were always the same, violent and bloody, of battlefields that were spread across time and across the known world. He never fully understood or knew what was going on in these dreams- only that he was in the midst of war, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Maybe I was a warlord, in some life unknown to me." He mused, only half-teasing Vlad. Even as he joked, Gabriel worried that this might be the case. "Or a demon and God in his infinite wisdom has sent me these dreams now to be punished."

"Gabriel," Vlad said in a warning tone. "You are the kindness man I know. I do not believe this was your sins." He smiled. "Maybe you are a holy man, an angel. Some Minister of Grace sent to befriend good soldiers like me and remind us never to become to encumbered with war. You are to ensure we are safe from damnation."

Vlad was deliberately appealing to his faith in an attempt to soothe Gabriel.  Vlad knew of Gabriel's concern for him, and knew that if anything would work, Gabriel's love for Vlad's eternal soul would make it alright. It worked too. The trouble that was stirring in Gabriel's stomach eased as Van Helsing accepted this. He would never let Vlad be damned, and the idea that he had come to ensure that was a natural, comforting idea. It made the nightmares less painful, knowing that some good would come of them.

Gabriel smiled and returned to slipping the ring off Vlad's finger. He turned his head as he became aware of the noises of Vaseria. He turned his head to see the old Gypsy women as they circled the edge of the village, waving their many layered skirts as if fanning a flame and shouting in their native Romany to the forest. He jutted his chin in the direction. "What are they doing?"

Vlad turned and watched them grimly. "They're using their marhime to ward off Mulo'." He glanced at Gabriel and smiled nervously as he realized his explanation was worthless. He looked down briefly to translate Romany into English in his head before looking back up. "The women are unclean from the waist down. It's believed that they can ward off Mulo'- evil spirits- by threatening them with their impurity, their Marhime."

"What kind of evil spirit?" He asked, sitting up and in doing so pulling the ring completely off his finger. Gabriel tucked it into his hand as he stood.

The women turned and upon seeing him, knew Vlad could not be far behind. They began to cheer, dropping the skirts and running to the wagon. Gabriel smiled and looked down at Vlad. "You're famous."

Dracula grimaced and stood. He waved at the people and glanced at Gabriel. At the sight of the Count, the villagers surged to him, forcing Intessar to stop the wagon. He climbed out of the wagon to meet the villagers as they came towards him, shedding off his teasing nature for an air of formality that came as the price of leadership.

Gabriel stood, slowly and inched towards the front of the wagon to sit near Intessar. He knew she would feel the sting most, after all, Dracula and Intessar were in public now and the rules had changed. Intessar was his servant here, not his lover, and Gabriel was his advisor and cousin, not his friend. Here he was not Vladislaus, the playful, teasing spirit that called Gabriel Gadjo, or non-Gypsy, lovingly.

Here he was Count Dracula, the Hero of Constantinople. Here he was the Dark Prince of Transylvania, heir to Valerious and a great warlord. Here he was a noble in charge of great lands that he controlled tightly and some might say cruelly. Here the game was not played by swords and axes that Vladislaus could see coming towards him and shield against but by innuendo and plots that, if he was not careful, could be Vlad's undoing. Here he was a different man entirely.

And a married one.

"Husband!" Gabriel watched as Countess Anne came towards Dracula, pulling him into her arms. He turned just in time to see Intessar bow her head and look away from the display.

Vlad was looking at Anne, making his way to her to bring her into a hug. Although they had been married for years now, Gabriel knew that this display was only for the public. They had never even consummated the marriage. Vladislaus quite simply could not stand the idea of doing any harm to Anne by being unfaithful to her- or Intessar. In truth, Vlad felt both indebted and guilty about Anne but knew of no way to make it better. He was as much a victim of circumstance as Anne was, and Gabriel knew he hated that.

"Come," Gabriel whispered to Intessar. "You're beginning to stare."

"And I should be allowed to." She muttered back. "I am his wife more then she is."

"Yes, but she bears his name. And right now, that is enough. Now come, help me to my room."

"Gabriel, wait up! Let me help you." Vlad called from Anne's arms. Anne frowned and tugged on Vlad's arms, bringing his attention back to her. Vlad frowned at her. "What's gotten into you? Why are you acting this way?"

Gabriel frowned for a moment, of the many things Anne was, being assertive wasn't one of them. She was always a passive creature that allowed things to happen. The fact she seemed so desperate for alone time worried him.

"We need to talk," Anne whispered, looking at Gabriel for some help. "Now."

"Go ahead," Gabriel told Vlad as he helped Intessar off the wagon. He nodded briefly at Anne. "You'll see me in a moment."

"Alright," He heard Vlad say chidingly to Anne as he disappeared into the Valerious Manor. "You have my attention."

"Inside," Anne replied. "Come to my rooms."

Gabriel heard Intessar make a sound and he shook his head. "It's not like that, Tessa." He soothed. "You know Anne cannot steal him away from you."

"You men are so foolish sometimes." Intessar spoke. "You believe all can be obtained by overt actions. I know better. You see, Anne already has half her battle won. Vlad loves her."

"The same way he loves me, or any other friend."

"Yes, but men are weak when it comes to love, even more so then women, and powerful men like Vlad are greedy for it. He has many affairs to deal with, by the end of the day will long to be comforted by the soft arms and gentle voice of a woman."

"And he'll send for you."

Intessar laughed scornfully. "But how long can I keep a creature like Dracula in the dark? How long can I think to keep him crawling in the shadows like a demon for me? Love was not meant to be such a way and if I am not careful, I will lose him to the light." She looked frightened under her veil suddenly. "Or, he will be lost to me even in the darkness. Either way, Christian, and mark me…we will lose him."

Gabriel frowned at her revelation and turned back to study Vlad, to look for some reassurance from his friend that Intessar's musing were not so. But Vlad was already gone, having disappeared into the Manor to alleviate whatever fears Anne had had. Inhaling deeply, he reached down to the ring he had stolen, and played with it thoughtfully.

And prayed.