Disclaimer: I own nothing except what I made up. Fair enough.

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The sunlight was pale and weak and yet the young woman lying on the bed was positively glowing in it. It was Lucia, sleeping softly, though not for much longer. She had been redressed again, today in a long, beautiful dress of dark purple material. Under it, she was wearing a corset. Her thick dark hair was loose, lying on the pillow beside her.

She awoke suddenly, eyes snapping open. She blinked, and inhaled sharply, wincing in pain as she realised she was wearing a corset. Memories of the previous night flooded back to her; the fight, the werewolves, the kiss...

She closed her eyes, allowing this last memory to wash over her, thinking of the bliss, the peace, she had felt in the Count's arms. She knew it was wrong; she knew it wasn't meant to be, but she knew she was falling for her captor.

She sat up, and wondered where Dracula was. Perhaps she should go and find him, talk to him. Her legs carried her to the door before she had a chance to think, and to her surprise she was not locked in. The door opened easily, and she walked down the cold corridor quickly to the curved staircase which plunged down into blackness. She began to climb down, irritated to find she had to lift her skirt. The stone was bitterly cold beneath her bare feet, and the stairs seemed to go on forever, until she began to wonder if they were a trap.

They finally became straight, and Lucia stopped to gasp. The stairs went straight down to the centre of the grand entrance hall, all stone and marble. More importantly to Lucia, the huge black double doors. The doors to freedom. She walked slowly down the rest of the steps, staring straight at the exit. Of course, she knew it would not open simply.

Would she leave anyway? She came to a halt a few metres away from it, thinking again of the Count's mouth on her own. Could she just leave him? These thoughts made her literally dizzy.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

Lucia lowered her eyebrows. Surely Vladislaus did not recieve guests here? She was considering going to open the door, when a tall figure walked out of the kitchen. He was poker thin, rigidly upright, a man who was neither young or old, but deathly pale. He crossed to the door, and pulled it open, stepping to one side to allow Lucia to stare at the two people on the steps.

The first was a small man dressed in friars' robes; he looked pale and a little scared. The second was a tall, broad man dressed in a long coat, heavily armed, with wavy brown hair and warm brown eyes shining beneath a lowered hat. And she knew who it was.

"Gabriel," she whispered.

He raised his hat, and stared at her, recognition etched in his face. For a long time, nobody moved. Lucia found that she simply could not look away; she was lost in those chocolate orbs, a warm and safe feeling in her heart. So this was her soulmate, she could tell. She already loved this man.

"Lucia!" the Count's voice was sharp and urgent. He was standing on the stairs. "Lucia, come to me, now."

Lucia forced herself to fight the temptation to look up at the Count, deciding that he could probably control her if she did. Instead, she focused all of her attention on Gabriel, who raised his pistol suddenly, pointed it at the servant, and shot. The servant fell to floor. Dead.

"You cannot have her," Dracula said in a low purr, and Lucia felt a chilly thrill cross her spine as she realised he was standing right behind her now, mouth right beside her ear.

"I already have her," Gabriel replied coldly. "Give her to me, now."

Dracula's arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against his body. She felt heavy, but somehow blissful, and she closed her eyes. The vampire pressed her tight against him, and then kissed her earlobe gently, making her moan.

"Doesn't seem to want to leave, does she?" Dracula murmured.

Lucia opened her eyes in time to see Dracula wave one arm widely. Three small, winged, ugly creatures seemed to come from it, flying towards Gabriel and his friar friend. Lucia screamed for them; she was unable to speak, so she screamed, fearing for her Hunter.

The doors closed as the Gargoyles reached Gabriel.

Dracula released Lucia, and she fell weakly to the floor, trying hard to keep her tears from flowing down her face. She looked up at him, and felt her heart literally ache with two emotions- love and hate. His face was twisted in bitter anger as he looked down on her.

"Why, Lucia, why?" he hissed.

"I will not be your puppet," she said, surprised that the words came easily to her. "I will not be your marionette."

His expression changed to one of softness, his eyes bright with hurt. And she could not look up at him anymore, scared her hurting heart would break. As her eyes found the floor, his hands found her waist, and he lifted her to her feet, standing her in front of him. She did not look up into his eyes, instead focusing on his feet as hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Dracula whispered, wrapping one arm around her waist and gently lifting her chin with the other. His smooth thumb wiped away her tears as their eyes met. "Lucia, please forgive me. I am not angry at you."

Her hand cupped his cheek and she shivered as she felt the coldness of it. His skin was perfectly soft and pale. He closed his eyes as her fingers travelled over his face; the nose, the eyelids, the cool lips. She remembered the lips being warm from her touch, and suddenly her fingers had been replaced with her lips, pressed against his, kissing softly.

He kissed her back, tightening his hold on her. She felt his mouth warm up once more, and snaked a hand down his front, feeling his firm, strong chest.

There was a loud crash upstairs.

Dracula pulled away from Lucia, still holding her in his arms, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Hell is loose."

She felt her blood run cold. "What?"

"Hell is loose," he repeated. "Hell is after me."

TBC.