Disclaimer: I own nothing except what I made up. Fair enough.
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BANG.
Lucia's eyes flittered open slowly. She had been lying asleep in her room, but a loud sound somewhere in the castle had awoken her. She raised her head, and looked around sleepily. "Count?" she murmured, wondering if he was here to talk about her previous escape mission.
But there was no response. She was very much alone in this room. It was growing dark outside; the sky was an eerie grey colour, the snow thick. She lay down again, and considered actually getting into the covers instead of lying on top of them. She was quite chilly in only this ballgown, but before she could be bothered to move, she felt sleep once again washing over her.
"Lucia!"
The panic-stricken cry startled her back to consciousness as she jerked up into sitting position to find that the Count had materialised at her bedside. He looked distinctly worried, his eyes wide and pained. All the fear she had felt at his previous threatening actions, the sheer horror of seeing him walk into her sword, faded instantly as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her urgently to her feet. He cared for her well-being, she knew it.
"What is it?" she asked, noticing that he was still holding her close.
"Lucia, you must listen. The other monsters that occupy this earth envy me. They envy me because the Devil has granted me another chance. And now they want me sent back to Hell. There are three werewolves here to kill me."
She narrowed her eyes. Hadn't he told her he couldn't die? Perhaps he had meant at the hands of a human, because he certainly looked worried now. She looked away, her mind whirring. She could not let him die. The shocking realisation of this made her inhale sharply. She knew something was definately wrong with her, but she would not let him die. She looked back at him.
"Give me back my clothes and weapons," she said calmly. "I have dealt with werewolves before. I will help you take them out."
His eyes narrowed. "Perhaps that is not such a good idea. You could get hurt."
"I'm a Hunter, Vladislaus," she whispered, somehow finding it hard to speak. "Hunting monsters is what I do."
He lowered his eyebrows, but nodded and stepped back. Then he waved his hand. Lucia gasped as she realised she was wearing her own clothes- lacy black camisole, tight leather trousers and boots, Van Helsing's shirt, her pistols, stake, crossbow, dagger- all there. Her hair was even back in its messy braid. The only thing that was missing was her cross, and she knew the Vlad could not return that to her.
"That's a good trick," she murmured, completely awed as she fingered Van Helsing's shirt gently, thinking for a second about the portrait on the wall.
"Quite a useful one, admittedly," Vlad muttered. "Now, we go up onto the West Tower and take them down there. Come!"
He threaded his fingers firmly through her own slim ones and together they ran from the room, out into the cold, dark, draughty corridor and along it. Lucia heard the distinctive sound a werewolf howling on the floor below them and felt her heart beat more quickly. They reached an old flight of chipped stone steps which wound up to the top of the West Tower.
The whoosh of cold air which blew into Lucia's face as they came out on top of the small round tower was wet with snow, and she narrowed her eyes against it. Vladislaus was still clutching her hand, and he gave it a grateful squeeze as they backed up against the wall. He released her, and she pulled out her pistols, checking that they were indeed loaded with silver bullets. She found they were, and smiled grimly. Her heart was racing, her breathing fast and shallow.
"You owe me big for this," she whispered to Vlad, darting a glance at him.
He smiled, and she felt a cold chill as she saw his canines had lengthened to sharp points. She realised that this was probably, at least for now, a good thing, and she turned back to the small trapdoor, chewing her own lip.
That's when the first werewolf lunged out of the door at her with a loud roar.
It was nothing like any other werewolf she had seen. Instead of soft brown fur, it had hard steel grey hair. It was about twice as large as normal werewolves and looked more powerful and evil.
Lucia was not prepared. She leapt to one side and it sailed past her. She landed on her back on the hard stone and sat up in time to see it collide with the wall. Vladislaus was watching it, but Lucia decided to take this one out herself. She raised the pistols and cocked them, and fired.
She kept firing, her fear and anger squeezing the triggers. The bullets smashed into the werewolf, who turned, groaning, to stare at her. Just as the guns clicked to alert her they were empty, it collapsed to the floor, and Lucia sighed.
The second one chose to attack then.
Lucia, who was sprawled on the ground, did not see it coming, but felt her heart stop as it landed suddenly on her, and she screamed as she found herself faced with its horrible yellow eyes and wide, dangerous mouth. It snapped and swiped at her, its foul breath making her want to retch.
It was pulled up suddenly from her, but she felt a sharp, blinding pain in her shoulder as it caught it with its huge claws. The werewolf was flung to one side, revealing what had pulled it off.
It was Vladislaus.
But he was in his hideous vampire form; huge and strong, thick brown leathery skin, evil twisted face, huge mouth, wings. It was the single most horrible thing she had ever seen, and she felt a sob rise in her throat as he stared down at her.
He moved away quickly, and she stared in utter shock as he marched over to the werewolf, lifted it up in his arms, and bit its neck. Black blood flowed everywhere as Vladislaus tossed the werewolf lightly over the side of the tower. He stood looking down on it, unaware of the third werewolf which was approaching him from behind, ready to attack, raising itself up-
Only to find a long silver stake in its in heart.
Lucia held the stake with a shaking hand, then wrenched it out, exhaling as it fell dead to the floor. She tucked the stake away, then collapsed weakly against the wall, panting. Her shoulder was aching, and she felt light-headed.
"Lucia?" Vladislaus was crouching beside her now, back in his human form. His voice was soft.
"You... you... vampire..." she muttered, closing her eyes. She felt his cold fingers wrap around her wrist.
"Lucia, you already knew what I was. And yet you agreed to fight with me. And even... even after I took on my other form, you saved me."
She could think of nothing to say, merely cried out in the pain her arm was causing her. She felt Vlad's fingers tighten.
"Lucia? You're hurt. Oh no, show me!"
She opened her eyes reluctantly, and slowly pulled down the torn shoulder of the shirt to reveal her pale shoulder. There was a deep, dark gash there, pouring hot blood down her arm. Vlad did not speak, but stood up and literally lifted Lucia into his arms, carrying her. Part of her did not like being held by the vampire, but she was too tired to argue, and instead rested her head on his soft tunic and closed her eyes. Soon, she found that she was sitting on her bed, Vlad kneeling beside her.
"The shirt; remove it," he said briskly, and she complied, watching him stare at her wound hungrily.
"You want to take the blood," she whispered. "Don't you?"
He said nothing. He had somehow got a small container of warm water and a soft rag, and he carefully began cleaning the wound. She winced.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, ripping off part of his tunic. "I know it hurts. I should never have let you get involved. It is not your fight."
"I don't mind," she replied honestly, as he began to wrap the wound in the strip of fabric. His fingers against her skin were soft and gentle.
He had stopped wrapping the wound, and still one hand still rested on her shoulder. "The werewolf- some of its venom may have entered your body. You will not become a werewolf; however, you may change a little."
The words seemed forced, he looked paler than usual and his lips twitched. He carefully, slowly, reached out with his other hand and cupped her cheek in it. And she didn't mind. Instead, she leaned forward, and their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss. Somehow, the kiss deepened, and Lucia felt a strange thrill at feeling Vlad's mouth become warm at her touch. Her hands were knotted in his hair, his arms around her waist. Finally, she pulled away, gasping for air.
"I must leave you now," Vlad announced suddenly, standing up. "I am very sorry. Sleep well."
And he walked out, leaving Lucia staring after him, shivering as she tried to gather her thoughts.
TBC.
