Author's Note: Here is my tenth chapter. No, I haven't forgotten about this story, I was just away on vacation for a few a days. I am so sorry it has taken me awhile to update it though and I thank all of you for your patience. Also, a big thank you to all my reviewers! Without you I would have given up on this story a long time ago. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing.

Chapter 10 Refreshing Memories

Vela's eyes searched the darkness in vain. She could not find the intruder anywhere. The master was still pacing the floor of the foyer, his face a mask of hatred and rage. The bride melted back further into the shadows, wondering if Van Helsing had seen her. If so, that would mean the end of her plan and perhaps later on, her life. The vampire below passed underneath one of the large wooden rafters, his sight trained on the large pillars in front of him, when suddenly a spark of light glowed behind him. The Count turned, glancing back, not sensing the man that had dropped to the ground in front of him. Van Helsing thrust a silver stake into his adversary's chest. It was direct hit and her master staggered backward, crying out in pain. Vela instinctively took a step forward as she beheld this, but quickly regained her composure, reminding herself that it was impossible to slay her master in such a manner. A few seconds passed by and Dracula smiled.

"Hello Gabriel," he said softly, reaching for the stake and ripping it out of his chest. "Is this your silver stake?" he asked casting it aside. It fell with a dull clank upon the stone floor. Van Helsing took a step back, shock clearly showing upon his shadowed face. "You don't remember do you?" the Count inquired, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the floor.

"Exactly what should I be remembering?" the man was moving away slowly, never turning his back on the vampire. The master followed him, stalking him carefully.

"You are the great Van Helsing," Dracula exclaimed throwing his arms up into the air, "trained by monks and mullahs from Tibet to Istanbul! Protected by Rome herself! But like me, hunted by all others." Vela smiled smugly from where she stood, crossing her arms across her chest. She enjoyed watching the man suffer. After all he had killed several of her children and staked her husband in the heart.

"The Knights of the Holy Order know all about you, so it's no surprise that you would know about me," Van Helsing was visibly confused, but still kept his wits about him as he continued to move away from the vampire.

"Oh but it's much more than that. You and I go back a long way, Gabriel. I know why you have such horrible nightmares. The horrific scenes of ancient battles past," the Count continued, smirking.

"How do you know me?" the man asked. For the first time, a flash of curiosity passed over his face. But it was quickly pushed aside as a scream, probably from the Princess, rang through the cavernous room.

"Would you like me to refresh your memory? Hmm?" Dracula asked. "A few details from your sordid past?" Van Helsing suddenly withdrew a silver crucifix from the folds of his dark coat. He held it before her master and he shrieked, gripping onto it. The cross melted in his hand and flames burst forth. Van Helsing was forced to drop it, due to the intensity of the heat. The Count composed himself once more, acting as if someone had made a crude gesture in his presence and being a true gentleman, he had decided to ignore it. "Perhaps that is a conversation for another time," he said. "But before you go, allow me to reintroduce myself," Dracula said, bowing deeply. "Count Vladislaus Dragulia, born 1432 murdered 1462."

Vela let out a cackle of laughter as she watched Van Helsing squirm, but her joy was short lived. Screams of anguish sounded through the black night and the bride felt something die inside her. Shrieking, she quickly took to her bat form and soared upward, where she would have a clear view of the village. Below her, the hundreds of tiny baby vampires had begun to burst apart. The bride realized what was happening and cried out again, clawing at her own face with her talons. Verona and Aleera were flying back to the castle, making an even more unholy racket than her. The three brides paused once, hovering in the air by the large turrets of the castle. The last of their children died, exploding in front of their very eyes. They sobbed and after a few minutes, flew back to their master.

A strong gust of wind tugged at her golden hair, Vela covered her face, hoping to hide her tears. Inside she was embarrassed by her lack of control. She almost wished to be like the master, who now crouched on the stonewall surrounding the parapet, showing no emotion. Verona and Aleera stood behind her, wailing in sorrow as the wind carried their screams through the night. Dracula had tried his best to comfort his brides, but his efforts were futile. As they had learned upon their return, Van Helsing and the Princess had escaped from the Count's clutches, unfortunately. But the vampire had vowed revenge, promising them the blood of the two trespassers. He had made to take flight when Vela had stopped him, feeling that his presence was much more needed with them. Also she wished him not to kill Van Helsing before the man had done her work and finished off Verona and Aleera.

"Please master," she sobbed, now grabbing onto his arm. "Do not leave us, we could not bear it." Dracula had given into her pleas, thankfully, and stayed with his three remaining wives. Igor approached them now, his disfigured face even more twisted with fear.

"I am sorry master," he mumbled. "We try and we try but I fear we are not as smart as Doctor Frankenstein."

"Truly," Dracula replied, his voice dripping with venom. "It is clear that the good doctor took the key to life to his grave." Just then, the werewolf bounded up beside its master, shaking the water off its coat. "Hunt them down," the Count ordered, his eyes trained on the creature. "Kill them both." Vela's sobs subsided immediately, realizing that her plan was again in danger. She watched as the werewolf leapt off the parapet, clinging to the rocks below as it descended, on its way to kill her only hope to ever having the master to herself.