Author's Note: Thanks to Aku Maru who always allows me to bug her. She's the Patron Saint of Vampires and has somehow converted me back to these fanged buggies of the night. Love to Amissa who made me sympathetic to the wolves' plight as well. Read, review and hopefully I answered one of your questions J and I'm working on the other one. As for the ring/hand placement, it's normal behavior for people to switch hands every once in a while…go with it. I had to take some writer's liberty.

Chapter Seven: Out of Favor

The screams were overwhelming and stank was enough to make grown men become ill in public. The Church was abandoned now; as Grigore and his two accomplishes rotted, joined by now with at least six other men: the children and brothers of the would-be assassins. It had taken days to die, but their bodies were still now, spirits having fled to either Heaven or Hell, and only the stench remained. But still the women of these men had clustered around the bottom of the long pikes screaming and beating their chest, pulling their hair and screaming to God or Goddess for a reprieve that would not come. Now there was talk of damnation.

The old men spoke in hushed tones about atonement and accountability while the old women, with their black arts and ability to glimpse the future, spoke of Monsters that would come over this land and cast a black shadow that would perhaps never be removed.

And Valerious Manor was a home, besieged.

"The town looks empty." Gabriel said quietly. He was tired and drawn and his whole body ached from lack of food or sleep. He ran his hands over his dry, tired face and took another drink of the liquor he was holding. "Hell must be out in full force tonight."

"I don't think it needs to be." Anne whispered as she entered the room. She was carrying a basin in her hands, and motioned deftly to the table beside Gabriel's bed. "Lay down, take off your shirt."

"Why? It doesn't matter." He said softly.

"It matters to me, Gadjo."

Gabriel smiled at her sadly before walking towards the bed. "Vlad says it better."

"Vlad does everything better."

He removed his shirt and looked at her. She met his eyes for a while before looking down, blushing from his attention. Gabriel regretted his thoughts a moment after and looked down before crawling unto the bed and revealing his torn, half-healed back to Anne. He heard the Countess gasp and shifted uneasily on the bed. "It doesn't hurt, milady." He lied.

"The Moors did this?" She asked, breathlessly.

Gabriel nodded. "They swept in during the night, looking for Vlad. Grigore and I barely had to grab him before they were in the camp. Imre tried to rally the guard but there was too much chaos. I saw Bela, and Peter struck down before they even had time to draw their sword. Nicolae was able to dismount some of them but there were too many…" He paused and looked away from a moment. "I told Grigore to take Vladislaus and run. I thought I was being smart. I took Vlad's robe and his ring and put them on, ran out to the Moors on his charger, all heroic like..." Gabriel's voice broke as Anne touched one of the small, oddly shaped scars that peppered his back.

"You got these because they thought you were Vlad?"

"No, they figured out quickly I wasn't him." He whispered. "These I got for protecting him."

"Does he know?"

"He rescued me…but no, he doesn't." Gabriel pushed himself up as he felt Anne tie off the last of his fresh bandages. "And he won't. He has too much to worry about without thinking about his suffering friends."

"Or loved ones." Anne whispered as she pushed herself off the bed and walked gingerly to the windows. Gabriel frowned as he watched the stiffness of her joints, and the grimness with which she held herself and an arm around her waist, cradling herself.

"What happened, Anne?" Gabriel prodded. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine…what's happened?"

Anne turned back, her face haunted. "He's finally taken his right as husband concerning me."

Gabriel felt like he had been struck. "Anne…I'm sorry."

"He's not his fault, Gabriel. Please don't blame him…it doesn't hurt and I'm not ashamed…"

"Anne, don't you understand what's going on? This isn't Vlad, he's sick…"

"I won't hear this, Gabriel. Not from you too. I won't…"

"He's not well and you know it!"

"No, I don't!" Anne shouted, she wasn't angry with him and in denial. She was quite simply tired. The stress of suddenly becoming the Lady of the house was wearing on her, Gabriel could sense it, and with these matters were Catherine, a dying still father-in-law near and a husband who was going mad. He surprised she had even been composed this long. She looked back at him, drew up her dignity and soothed her hair. "I know the rumors, and I know the fears but I also know my husband…and he is not responsible for this. He would never harm me, his family or the people of Vaseria. He is our Lord and the last thing he needs is those who love him double guessing him. Understand?"

Gabriel swallowed and nodded. "Yes, milady."

The knock on the door caused them both to jump but it was Gabriel who feared it most. Anne was nobility, protected by her status and Vlad's innate Gypsy roots. He was not so lucky. Vlad's recent madness had turned Vlad against Gabriel and since that day and Nicolae's warning, Gabriel had feared that one day he would see Nicolae appear at his door to add him to Grigore's company.

This fear was compounded when the door opened and submitted Stelian.

"Count Dracula requests your presence." Stelian began softly. Gabriel ran his eyes over the boy's thin armor and looked up questioningly. Stelian looked up with his own fear-streaked eyes into Gabriel's. "The full moon is up." He told him. "We are on the hunt for the werewolf."

"And what does the Count need with me?" Gabriel forced out.

Anne stepped forward. "He is no soldier. Gabriel is Vlad's advisor…he's no use to you in the forest."

"The Count demands his presence." Stelian said again. "He wants his lucky charm with him."

Gabriel smiled thinly. "Duty calls." He said weakly. He turned to Anne and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I will see you soon." He told her, before walking towards Stelian. "…I'll need a sword."

"No armor?"

"I don't plan to fight the Muslims, Stelian. Only demons. Give me a bible and a sword and I'm ready."

"Even angels carry savage weapons." Stelian warned as they walked out.

Anne watched as they disappeared down the hall, and then turned to stare out Gabriel's windows into the cool, dark night. Above them a full, pale moon cast gray light over the city's old, feeble stone homes and made Kolos' stone Cathedral glisten like polished bone. From here Grigore and his accomplices were only thin, black spikes that reached out from the courtyard towards Heaven as if they tried to pierce it.

And somewhere in the deep, thick forest that surrounded Vaseria a wolf pack bayed at the moon and safe in her home, nice and warm, Anne pulled her cloak a little closer to herself.

Blood would be spilled before the night's completion. She knew that as firmly as she knew her name and her God in Heaven. But it was not her God that would protect her husband. It was his Goddess.

"Lady," She whispered in the darkness. "Bring him home to me. If you have any power…bring them home."

Catherine wore the thick black wool despite the warmth that still hung in the air and had her hair done into a tight plait. The silver that adorned her hand glittered in the moonlight and touched the moonstone and amber that rested about her body. In truth, she didn't believe in these mystical enchantments or their power but whatever might help, she'd utilize. Her Master was great, after all, but fickle and his gifts were bought at a heavy price. So Catherine understood to play this game, as she should her Master's gifts must be used both for his benefit but also her protection against him. In time, she knew the Devil would claim his dues. He always did. But that day was not today.

Tonight, however, the world was hers.

There was a low, throaty growl that brought Catherine away from her reverie and back to the thick, deep woods around her. She pushed down her hood despite her better judgment to give her face some air but it didn't little to sooth her. The air was warm like blood against her and sweat pooled around her crown as she dismounted and crouched low. The hem of her dress caught on exposed roots and the low hanging branches began to snap at her hair. She jumped as she felt cobwebs she could not see brush against her face and yelped.

The creature beside her paused and made a low, deep whine. If Catherine didn't know better, she'd say her son was laughing at her.

It was a tall, fearfully built creation in the stance and form of a man but at the same time lupine and animalistic. Coarse and thick, auburn hair covered the features, over wide upright ears, an elongated snout and deadly looking jaws. The muscles of the chest pulse under the thick fur, and became more pronounced on the legs and arms, each of which exposed black claws that jutted from each digit.

"Feodor." She whispered, stretching out the hand she had devoid of silver and running it over the wolf's underside. The werewolf growled in compliance. "You know are who you are to seek." She told him. "Find Vladislaus, and destroy him."

The wolf arched his back and bayed at the moon.

"And anyone else who stands in your way." She told him.

The wolf growled again, crouched unto all fours legs and bounded away through the thickness. Catherine watched till she was sure she could no longer see him before mounting her horse again. She pulled on her reigns and tried to shake the fear that came with sending out her son into the darkness. She was assured of Feodor's strengths but feared Vlad's vengeance.

"Master." She whispered into the darkness. "Prince of the air. Protect him and bring him home."