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"Do you remember how we met, my lord?"

The voice slid silkily into Dracula's consciousness. He smiled his devil's smile and turned quickly, pinning Verona down on her bed. "But that was so long ago, my bride."

Verona smiled up at him through a curtain of dark hair. Like a cat toying with a mouse, he thought, and felt a certain uneasiness. Verona, unlike Aleera, was usually quite straightforward in her requests. "Is there something you desire, my bride?"

"Only your company, my lord."

Something was still not right. He smiled again, but this time she did not return the smile. "Tell me how we met, Vladislaus."

Ah. She was testing him, he realized. Making sure that he still valued her above his other two brides; that, beautiful as they were, she was still his queen. He hoped that was it, anyway.

Two could play at this game, and he was most certainly going to win.

"Let me see." He tapped his chin and looked into her eyes. "I was walking in the city, late at night, looking for my next…meal. Someone darted out of a dimly-lit building in front of me, and I saw that it was a young woman. She was chased by a burly drunk, who was yelling something about how he had 'paid and wasn't going to take no for an answer, and that time limits didn't apply.'" He grinned. "You, my dear, turned on him and sent a stiletto right through him. You didn't even see me, but I saw you, my bride; I saw your raw beauty and your violent grace as you took the stiletto and re-sheathed it. I saw my love. Then you looked up into my eyes…"

Verona laughed flatly. "My lord, you describe…Marishka." She sniffed. "A common…what do you call them?...Lady of the Night. I suppose you just had to make her title real."

Dracula gave her a look of mock concern. "Not the right bride? Ah, well, then perhaps it was when I was flying above the mountains and an avalanche below me buried a Gypsy encampment. Yes, my bride, don't you remember? How I flew down and saw you, your lovely face the only part of you above the snow? Don't you remember how I pulled you out and held you because your heart was the only one beating in the entire snow-entombed camp? How I bent down and kissed your sorrow away, like this?"

Verona's eyes were narrowed even as he kissed her. "Aleera. Do you truly not remember me, my Lord Dracula? Or am I—how shall I put it—no longer in your favor?"

Dracula dropped all pretense of memory loss. "You are always in my favor. Do you not remember how I came to your house in Budapest, where you were mourning for your mother? How I told you that I had…known…her cousin? How I held you in my arms and told you that everything would be all right, that death could be friendly, that I would never abandon you?"

Verona smiled her cat's smile. "I remember, my lord." She pushed him over so that he was lying back on the bed and she was kneeling over him, one hand on either side of his shoulders, her long, dark hair brushing his face. "My lord, I do have one question. A simple thing, and you will, I fear, think me silly."

"Ask, my queen."

She leaned forward until her mouth brushed his ear. "Who," she breathed, "is this Tatiana you speak of in your sleep?"


Please, please, PLEASE get the "cousin" thing I'm talking about! (crosses fingers that audience will have- riiiight- remembered the mention of Verona in the 2nd chapter...) lol R and R!