Dr. Jekyll looked over to the girl and moved closer. She would be under the effects of the potion by now, in a deep sleep. Being careful, just in case, he came to the girl's bedside.

Arene did not hear the door open at all, nor the sound of light footsteps as the doctor approached her. She simply lay in her deep sleep. Dr. Jekyll smiled,

"That's it, my dear, sleep," he hissed and pulled a small bottle from his pocket. It was filled with a deep black substance. From his other coat pocket he pulled out a syringe and a needle. He quickly filled the syringe and leaned in towards the sleeping girl. He covered Arene's mouth with his hand and injected the needle into her neck. Arene let out a slight cry of pain, but it was muffled and could not be heard by anyone outside the room. He pulled back and released his hand. Arene moaned and opened her eyes slightly, looking at the man standing over her.

"Oh... Doctor Jekyll... I didn't hear you come in," she whispered, her voice soft and very weak. "I must have slept a long time."

"Only for a few moments, my dear," he whispered. "I have given you something else to help you. I can assure you its effects will be most... interesting. For now, you must sleep."

Arene nodded slightly and laid her head back on her pillow. Dr. Jekyll gave a small bow and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. An evil smile curled upon the edge of the man's old lips.

"Yes, my dear, rest... you will need it against me. And you, Van Helsing, let's see how strong you are once you realize your daughter is dreadfully ill."

With that thought, he quietly walked down the hallway towards the room the Cardinal had given him.

Back in her room, Arene closed her eyes and tried to sleep. A strange feeling filled her body, it was extremely painful, but it seemed to soothe her if she slept. She closed her eyes and felt the small beads of sweat drip down her face. Her fingers gripped the bed sheets.

"It's all right," she told herself. "Dr. Jekyll only wants to help me...."

Nightmares plagued her dreams. Terrible visions of fire and blood. Arene tossed turned in her bed, knocking the covers onto the floor. He eyes shot open and she lay still for the first time all night, gasping for breath. She rose slowly, her body stiff, and eventually swung her legs over the edge of the bed, getting into sitting position. She knew that she should be cold but instead she was burning. She carefully crossed the room, holding onto the furniture for support, till she reached the curtains. She flung them back and her hands fumbled with the latch. She felt somewhat revived as cold air blew in onto her face. She turned and made her way to her dressing table then looked at herself in the mirror. Had she had the strength she would have screamed but as it was she just gazed, opened mouthed, at her image in the glass. What had happened to her? A wave of nausea swept over her and she tried to back her way back to the bed. Before she got there though she fell to the floor in a faint. All was silent in the room save for the noise of the drapes blowing wildly in the wind.

In the morning Van Helsing dressed then set off with Carl towards Arene's room. He was worried about his child but Carl told him that the Cardinal had brought a doctor to the Vatican to care for her so he tried not to be too anxious.

"Do you know who this doctor is?" he asked Carl as they walked down one of the long corridors.

"No," replied Carl, scurrying to keep up with the other man's enormous strides. "I just know that the Cardinal met him in the town and thought he seemed suitable so he invited him to stay here and care for Arene. Apparently the man is just passing through on his way to England."

"Hmmm," said Van Helsing thoughtfully as they reached Arene's door.

Van Helsing knocked softly but when there was no reply he turned the handle and he and Carl stepped into the room. Neither was prepared for the sight that met their eyes….