Author's note: Well, I'm finally updating this. Hopefully I'll even get another chapter up within a week or two. My muse has been balking at this fic for a while, but hopefully I do the characters justice. Please review, and enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own, please don't sue. Savvy?

CHAPTER TWO: WRATH

The three men stared up at the brooding castle on the cliff with fear, their bodies shaking from something much more gripping and sinister than the cold. But they swallowed the terror and the lumps in their throats and walked towards it.

Castle Dracula.

A forbidden place that now had to be explored. The villagers had all voted and decided that they had to find out if the strange truly was the long dead count, if they had again seen Vlad Tepes walking amongst their homes, his feet stepping onto the ground silently as storms raged on around him.

The three men walking towards it now had been the only volunteers, not that they were surprised. In truth, they had surprised everyone, including themselves, when they had stood and announced that they would travel to the dark, demonic place and visit the cursed tomb of the vampire lord.

And now they were nearing it, the sky still full of angry clouds that poured down cold rain as the wind blew savagely, as if nature itself was trying to keep the men away. Or if something completely unnatural was manipulating nature to protects itself and its home.

The latter was the most likely in the men's minds.

Suddenly a great howl was heard, its song a warning and a threat, coming from the castle, and then a shriek as mournful and cruel as a banshee's. The men stopped cold, icy terror freezing their blood. Those sounds were not natural sounds of nature's beasts of the woods.

Yet the men carried on. They volunteered, they were trusted, they would not give up so easily.

But they were fools.

A growl, low and angry, was heard, accompanied by the sound of something tearing through the woods in front of them, and then they saw a shape, lunging at them from the shadows of the trees. The men shouted in fear and turned, fleeing as fast as their mortal legs could carry them.

The beast snarled when it hit the ground and not one of them, rearing up and roaring, its long and sharp fangs bared as it charged after the men. It ran on all fours, quickly gaining on one of the men and tearing into him hungrily.

The other two men kept running, knowing they were no good and had no chance if they even looked back. Even as the doomed man's screams of agony became gurgled cries of death and the sounds of wet flesh being tear through and the stench of raw meat and spilled blood filled the forest, they kept running, ignoring the sounds and scents, focused on getting back to safety, getting their families and neighbors inside, avoiding the same horrid fate.

But the beast was not even close to sated, and its hunger spurred it on. Filling its belly as much as it could with the first man's flesh and marrow, it again charged, gaining up on the other two men. Soon sharp, long claws dug into another man's back, gripping and yanking him down.

This time, the last remaining man did stop, turning back briefly in surprise when he heard the grunt of pain and the sound of the fall from his companion. His eyes widened in fear as he saw the beast standing over his friend.

The beast was a werewolf, as they would have had suspected should they have had time to really think about it, for the werewolves of old had been the hellhounds of the count. It stood several feet taller than any mortal man, and it reared up and roared when it saw it was being watched. Its fur, matted in many areas with a dark, sticky liquid, was thick and long and blacker than the midnight sky. Its eyes were like amber gleaming in sunlight, small, wolf shaped irises barely noticeable. It's maw was long and wide open, crimson dripping from long fangs that could tear through any man's skull.

The man looked down at his struggled friend, slightly dazed from the fall and the wounds on his back, blood seeping out from under him. He looked up, his eyes terrified and pleading for help, too caught up in the pain and fear of the death awaiting him to care if he was being selfish.

But the man standing shook his head, eyes wide and he finally managed to turn away and run again even when the best roared again and the sound of flesh tearing and screams of agony filled the air again. He ran and panted, his body weary and his mind unable to register anything except that he had to keep running, he had to keep going, he had to get away.

Because once the wolf finished with its latest kill, it was only going to have one more prey left in the forest.

His legs were aching and growing sluggish, his lungs burning, his heart pounding painfully now. But he kept trying, he kept trying, even as he finally reached the end of the forest and reached his village finally, he kept running until he got to the square, where he finally stopped, almost collapsing as many of the other townsfolk rushed out as he yelled wordlessly.

They stared at him, confused and worried, approaching him when suddenly the large werewolf leapt from the forest and pounced on the terrified man, biting into his head. All the others screamed and gasped in horror before grabbing and pulling each other into their homes, locking and blocking their doors and windows quickly even as the last of the three volunteers screamed and then gurgled up his own blood while the werewolf tore into his flesh and filled itself one last time for the evening.

Castle Dracula was not to be disturbed. Not at day, and not at night. This was clear to the villagers now. They would not be so foolish again.

"How fairs your husband, lovely Mina?" the count asked softly, a deceptively concerned smile on his face. He took off her cloak and tossed it aside as Mina stiffened slightly, hardly tricked by his manners and false concern.

"Weak still from the torture he received at the hands of your whores," she replied, her voice biting and cold.

Dracula made a tsking sound and came back around to stand in front of her yet again, close enough so that when Mina inhaled her chest touched his. "You should not use such coarse language, it does not suit a woman such as yourself," he remarked before suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders and pushing her up against the wall with lightning speed.

Mina cried out in surprise and slight pain, but did not fight him as he pressed himself against her. She began to pant in fear and that cursed desire he caused to grow inside of her. Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him, trying to hide both elements coursing through her.

Because both aroused him, called to him, tempted him, whetted his appetite. And it was now becoming apparent that he could smell and feel both of them, for there was an almost rabid look in his eyes.

"Do not speak, do not fight, do not resist," he whispered softly, his voice once again deceptive. But this time, his body did not help with the deception, for everything about him other than his voice told her he was hungry, told her that he was craving.

She could feel his hands slide down from her shoulders to her hips, gripping them as he pressed himself even closer, almost grinding against her.

Mina could not find the strength to do any of the things he had told her not to do.

The thought of trying to shove him away was fleeting in her mind, though she was thankful she still had enough fight in her to even have it at all. He was so strong in her mind, in her body, in her will. She was losing ground, and he was ready to devour her.

Dracula leaned in close, his mouth almost brushing against hers. "I have not felt such passion in centuries, lovely Mina."

His lips, cold and demanding and painful, were then against hers, his tongue forcing its way inside her mouth even as she struggled for some reason she was starting to loose focus on. He coaxed her to give in though, his hands massaging her sides and hips through her dress, his tongue brushing against hers teasingly, hinting at forbidden things to come.

Finally he pulled away from her, just as she gave in to the kiss, leaving her panting. He stared at her, eyes flashing red briefly, starving hunger and icy lust in them as he took in her disheveled appearance, her parted lips, her half closed eyes, her heaving chest.

Tell me," he whispered the command, his once again gray eyes locking with her blue pair, his will touching hers, and she knew what he wanted. What he somehow needed to hear from her, had to make her say it aloud for his ears and hers. To make her openly acknowledge it in front of him.

To her shame, she gave him what she wanted.

She would hate herself for it for the rest of her life. She would curse herself for it. She would damn herself for it. But for some reason, she would never fully and completely regret it.

"I want you to finish it."

It was raining in London. Not a surprise for the League as they finally arrived at their destination. Though being in the same room where M had put most of them together brought up some, unpleasant memories. Which was probably one of the reasons why they were glaring at Campion Bond.

He didn't seem phased by it in the slightest.

"Welcome back to London," he greeted them with an almost condescending smile. He sat at the end of the table, not in the middle where M had sat. At least he didn't through that in their face.

Nemo bowed his head, the others nodded or waved their hands or completely ignored the greeting altogether. Mina was one of the latter. Normally she would have been more polite, but she felt edgy, hungry, almost as though her control was slipping and he was gaining.

But there was no chance of him already being there. He could not have been awake more than a day, two at most. He could not get there so quickly, it just was not possible by any ship or vessel except for the Nautilus.

Mina was growing more and more worried, and she was starting to let it show more and more often. She tried not to, but there was so much conflict going on in her head, and she was once again Mina Murray, a simple woman with a tormented fiancé and the prey of some unnatural being bent on making her his thoroughly and completely in every way.No.

She had to put an end to this, she had to stop giving him more and more ground. She closed her eyes and sighed silently, regaining her composure, and refocused on the meeting she was attending. Now was not the time, and she would not allow him to take first priority in her thoughts right now, not yet.Unless it has to do with how to kill him once and for all.

"Please, everyone, have a seat," Bond told them, gesturing to the chairs surrounding the table. "Our two guests should arrive at any moment. Once they do, we can get down to business," he informed the League as they each took a seat.

Mina finally was able to push the nagging presence from her mind, and she focused on her fellow league members and Bond. She focused her thoughts on the two guests, whoever they were. She just focused on everything she could.

It all led back to him.

Everything always led back to him now.

She let it all go back to him.

Well, now was the time to stop, and stop she would. So, she focused on the table. It would be a difficult feet for a table to lead her back to Dracula, after all.

"You must spend a fortune on your furniture," Mina remarked dryly as Dracula led her through the estate. Everything was perfect and upper class, the finest wood, the finest linens, the finest craftsmanship. Of course, this was Dracula she was with, and he was nobility. Royalty.

And he lived as royalty.

"To you it would seem like a fortune. To me, beggar's change," he replied, no longer wearing a smile, though he was not frowning or scowling. His expression was almost blank, though his eyes gleamed with sinister delight as he led Mina by the hand, leading her upstairs.

Mina was hardly surprised by the condescending statement as she followed the count.

Dracula kept silent for the rest of the walk, and Mina decided to keep her own silence as well. There was so much going on without the words. His hand holding hers, his fingers cooling her skin, her heart pounding and her blood racing. The tension in the air, the scent of fear and desire.

She was letting him lead her upstairs to Hell.

"In only a few moments, all of this will be yours as well, lovely Mina," he whispered as they reached their destination. The bedroom. "Once I finish it, you will be mine, my companion for eternity, my equal, my mate, my queen. And you will own all that is mine and I will own all that is yours."

Renfield knew something was wrong, as he gripped his cane tightly. It was like a tingling sensation at the back of his neck, causing the hairs to stand on edge, making a chill run up and down his spine, leaving a feeling of dread in his veins. He tried not to let it show, and that was when he realized what was wrong.

He was alone.

In the fog, the thick evening fog, he had gotten separated from his companion. And he had been so focused on trying to determine why he felt unnerved he had not paid attention to what was happening around him.

Renfield stopped abruptly then. It was obvious what was happening. He looked around, searching through the fog for a familiar personage. And he saw exactly who he had expected. Standing up to his full height, Renfield faced the dark male walking up to him. He would not cower as before. He would not listen and obey and plead for mercy. He was above that now, he could defend himself and he could keep himself from giving exactly what his sire wanted.

"Hello, Renfield," Count Dracula greeted softly, his voice charming, unnerving. He smiled, but his eyes were cold and threatening, the smile more like a scowl of anger coming from this being. "You did not expect to see me so soon."

"You never ask questions, do you?" Renfield replied, meeting the vampire's icy stare. Gray eyes colder and more brutal than any blizzard were fixed on Renfield, and he felt the familiar sickening fear grip his senses.

Dracula sniffed the air, a genuine smile, still cold and still cruel, forming on his lips. "Ah, I have missed the scent of your fear."

Suddenly Renfield was being held against the wall of a building, and Dracula had a death grip on the younger vampire's throat. He watched as Dracula took the cane from Renfield's grasp. "You helped take my life and my love, Renfield," the count said in a soft tone, void of any emotion.

Renfield was about to reply when he felt the sharp cold steel of the blade from his cane slice through his heart without any mercy, the stolen life in him seeping out with the blood that was not originally his. He began to slump, his eyes looking up at his sire. The last thing he saw was a satisfied expression cover Dracula's face.

Leaning over, Dracula whispered in Renfield's ear, not caring that the pitiful weakling would not hear a word spoken. "I will again miss the scent of your fear. But it is a small price to pay for the sight before me now."

"You must be careful, he will not stop until he is destroyed or he has you, and he cannot be destroyed," the madman named Renfield told Mina, his eyes wide and pleading for something, his voice desperate and shaky.

Mina neared his cell. "How do you know this?" she asked in a hushed, urgent tone. "Why does he want me?"

Renfield looked around, his eyes searching for the entity that haunted the man's every moment, waking and sleeping. He then swallowed audibly and grabbed Mina's hands through the bars of his cell door. "He desire you like no other. If he could love, I think he would love you."

Taken aback by the statement and Renfield's grip on her hands, Mina backed away quickly, nearly tripping and falling backwards. "How do you know such things?" she asked, loudly this time, frightened of the sense of despair overtaking her.

How could such a creature as Dracula even come close to love? If he did, it had to be a twisted, dark, distorted thing that could bring no happiness. If Renfield was right, then Mina felt all hope slipping. For is Dracula could feel some sort of twisted love for anything, there was no hope of breaking his will.

Renfield's pale eyes met Mina's frightened stare with pity and sorrow. "Because I know his thoughts. And all his thoughts are of you."

"You are one of his, aren't you," Mina stated more than asked, receiving a guilty nod from Renfield. "Then why betray him? Why risk such a fierce wrath?"

"Because I do not want to see you become the creature he wishes to make you."