Author's Note: Here is my fifth chapter. Thank you all so much for the great reviews, I am so happy that everyone is enjoying it! The title of this chapter I believe is rather self explanatory and features a flashback which I have marked in italics. Thanks again! I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing.

Chapter 5 Vela's Turning

Vela floated lazily back to her master's castle, a shadow of joy coursing through her hollow body. It had been a long time since she had felt anything so defined except rage. Happiness and fear had been long forgotten, feelings that had fled her being the second Dracula had plunged his fangs into the delicate skin of her neck. She had been a weak and naïve creature then, frightened of every opportunity the world had to offer. But then she had met him and all had changed.

/Flashback/

Falcon tossed his head and chomped upon the steel bit. Whinnying, the horse lifted his forelegs, rearing slightly off the ground. Vela sighed and pulled down her stirrups. A cold wind blew and she shivered. Her eyes traveled back to the manor house behind her. It was old, from the late fifteenth century. A man stood upon the parapet, the king of the gypsies. Oh, how I hate Transylvania, she thought bitterly. Why her family had made the move from their home village she would never know. The Valerious family ruled this land, but Vela thought them wild people. Every night they went out hunting for some mysterious being. Her parents told her to join them, the young rich gentlemen would be in their company and she should try to catch their eyes. If her father had not lost all of their money to gambling debts, then perhaps she wouldn't have to venture out with them in the evenings, hoping that they would notice her and then consider courting her. But tonight was different, she would not join the motley gang of townspeople into the dark woods, the girl would go for a ride on her own, with her horse. Vela ran her hand through his silken mane and whispered in soothing tones, hoping to calm him somewhat. Then, grabbing upon the pommel of the saddle she hoisted herself up and fished for the stirrups with her feet. The night was cold as she urged Falcon on to a steady trot and then a slow, smooth canter. The girl could hear the Transylvanians nearby. They searched tirelessly, waving torches and stakes, some even carrying holy water. She tried to ignore them but their shouts grew louder. Vela whipped Falcon around and rode down another path. It was quieter here, in the dense forest, yet terribly frightening. A wolf howled, the creature sounded close by. She pulled her horse up to a halt and glanced around nervously. Where was she? This part of the land was unknown to her. Fear welled up inside of her and then screams reached her ears. The villagers were far off, yet their cries rang through the night.

"Nosferatu!" one of them yelled. Falcon reared, his hooves pawing the sky. Then all was silent. Her heart beat quickly; she could hear its rhythmic pounding. A gust of wind blew suddenly, scattering dead leaves across the frozen ground. The girl shut her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, a strangled cry of surprise rang from her own throat. A man was standing in front of her. He approached her slowly, his black cloak fluttering gently like wings. His face was handsome and he had dark hair that was tied back in a ponytail. Strangely, both of his ears were pierced, sporting two round golden earrings. He reached out a pale hand and began to stroke Falcon's neck. The horse stilled immediately as though he had fallen under some sort of trance. The man was clearly of noble birth for he held himself proudly.

"My dear," he murmured softly. "It is quite surprising to see such a young girl out alone so late at night. Have you gotten separated from your kin?"

"No," she answered. "I was not with them."

"Really?" he smiled, but his eyes, his dark mysterious eyes, remained cold. "You were not assisting in their hunt for the monster?"

"Monster?" Vela asked, stunned. "What monster?"

"Precisely," he replied. "Now, where are my manners? I have not introduced myself. I am Count Vladislaus Dracula." He bowed to her and she felt herself blush at his gentility.

"My name is Vela," the girl said, trying to sound as proper as he did. The man held out his hand to her and she took it, hopping off of Falcon.

"Such a beautiful mortal you are," the Count whispered. Vela felt the urge to gaze into his eyes, to get lost in their unfathomable depths. He caught her glance and held it for many minutes. Dracula, she thought, he is good to me, he is my only friend, he is my master. Wait, her mind drifted away as he lost eye contact with her for a second. She had just met him. He was not her master. "Would you like to be my bride, lovely one?" he asked, moving to stand behind her.

"Your what?" she felt the Count's cold fingers playing along the back of her neck, lifting the curtain of her blond hair.

"Look at the moon, my child," he purred, one hand tilting her head to the side. She did not respond, feeling his lips brushing against her neck, for at that moment she knew death was upon her. Perhaps she could have fought him, but inside, she did not want to. Something had taken a hold of her and the thought of being his bride pleased her. Then, realization dawned on her, the man, he was the one they had been searching for. But what was he? Pain, ripped through her body and she screamed, two sharp fangs had pierced her neck. The villagers heard her cry and a few of the braver ones rushed forward in a futile attempt to save the poor girl. Upon reaching the clearing from which the cry had echoed, they found nothing except a black horse, which appeared half mad as he snorted and tossed his beautiful head.

"Look! Look!" one cried, pointing towards the sky where an enormous bat like creature flew, a young girl dangling from his arms.

"My God," the king of the gypsies muttered. "He has taken another bride!"

/End Flashback/

The castle was fast approaching and the vampire hovered in the air for a few minutes before entering. Quickly, she wiped any traces of happiness from her face, making it a mask of indifference once more. Verona and Aleera would be very distressed at the loss of Marishka, and the master, well hopefully he was truly as hollow as he had told them. But then, just as she was about to land softly in the main foyer of her home, a cry rang through the air.

"Marishka!" Dracula shouted and Vela cringed.