Disclaimer: I own nothing except what I made up. Fair enough.
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The sun was blood red as it sunk behind the horizon. It had never seemed so far away to Lucia, who was sitting on the windowsill watching it. She had been redressed once more, now in a beautiful, heavy dress of white calico, which cascaded in layers to her feet. Her hair had been curled nicely on top of her head.
Tears trickled down her face. She was so confused, in love with two complete opposites, enemies. And now Dracula wanted her to be part of his plan to take over the world. She could never have anything to do with it. It was evilness, pure evilness.
"Miss Craft?" Lucia turned her head to see that Carl was awake, watching her sleepily. "Thank you. You saved me, Miss."
She wiped her eyes. She did not want him to see her cry. "I haven't saved anybody yet. I don't know if I can save anybody. I don't think I can save the world this time."
He raised his eyebrows at her sad tone. "Miss? What are you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, turning away. She did not wish to talk about the Count's plan with Carl, with anyone, until she had stewed it over in her head. "Just wondering if the life of a Hunter is really for me."
"Miss Craft, of course it is! I have heard the stories- you're an amazing fighter, a Hunter of the very best type."
She couldn't help but laugh softly at his earnest voice. "Thank you. But I never wanted this life, you know. I didn't choose it."
"Tell me about your life, then, Miss Craft."
"First off, call me Lucia. Secondly, you'll have to forgive me if some parts are a little sketchy- I'm not the most open person, and I'm not used to talking about myself. I was born in England some twenty-three years ago to a very young, unmarried woman. She wrote to my father, a Knight of the Holy Order, but he never came. So I grew up in England, a well-mannered and reasonably well-off girl. When I was seven, my mother married a Frenchman, and we moved out to Paris, where I blossomed into a slightly shy, odd, yet talented young woman. I was taught to fight, for reasons I have never worked out. I became fluent in French, Spanish and Italian. I wanted to be a singer. But, when I was seventeen, my father turned up.
"None of us were expecting it. When he arrived, I did not know his identity, and I ended up attacking him, causing him great injury. A mere seventeen year old girl beating an expert Hunter was not what he had expected. However, it made him take me to Rome. He wanted me trained. He wanted me to become a Hunter too. I was not given a choice. I was trained, and when I was twenty-one, I became a Hunter."
"You wanted to be a singer?" Carl asked quietly. "Can you sing?"
She raised her eyebrows. "Of course. I have a powerful voice." She sighed. "I'm sorry you're involved in all of this, Carl. You don't deserve it, and if I can I will protect you."
"Can you protect yourself?"
His question caught her off-guard. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Can you protect yourself from your feelings?"
It was asked in a soft, careful voice, but it still made Lucia's heart rate quicken, her face become hot. "That is none of your business," she replied heatedly. "I am a Hunter of the Church. I would not let my own feelings cloud my judgement."
"Feelings always cloud judgement. That is what feelings are," Carl said quietly.
Lucia's anger broke. She leapt down to Carl, heaving him off the floor and heaving him against the wall with a loud thud. Then she saw his blue eyes, sparkling with fear and innocence, and she felt her anger melting. She could not hurt an innocent person. And yet she had. She was a monster.
"I'm so sorry," she exhaled, letting Carl go as she slid to the floor, crying. The werewolf venom had tainted her. She had the beast's temper.
Carl was lying still on the floor, eyes closed. Lucia felt her heart speed again as she looked at him. If he was dead....
He was breathing. She sobbed in anguish. Hot tears poured down her cheeks. She ran her fingers over the werewolf scratch on her shoulder, and she couldn't help but remember Vladislaus' fingers on it. As she shuddered in pleasure, he appeared by her side, kneeling down beside her.
"Lucia," he said quietly. His fingers, gentle but firm, turned her face around so that she was looking into his black eyes. "Did you not see this coming? I tried to warn you, my love, but you did not take the hint."
He stood up, pulling her up and clutching her waist. She was mesmerised, horrified yet excited. He pinned her against the wall, and walked closer, kissing her roughly, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Her hands moved up to push him away as he began to hurt, but his strong hands grabbed her wrists and pressed her hands down by sides. Finally, he pulled away slightly, breathless. Lucia's mouth was bleeding. She could taste the sharp taste.
"You're not as innocent, as pure, as you thought, are you?" Vladislaus had walked forward, so that his body was flat against her own.
I don't want to be pure.... Lucia's mind was a blur. She wanted Vladislaus to take her now, have his wicked way with her and make her his forever. Part of her knew that he had her in a trance, but it was a very small part of her, the part where Gabriel lived in her.
"Vladislaus..." she whispered, pleading for him to stop, begging for him to continue. He covered her mouth with his again, this time letting her warm blood cover his tongue. Lucia could not move; her hands were pressed into his chest. His hand was running down her chest, fingers fiddling with the beading on her gown. He ran his hand over the soft curves of her breasts. His lips trailed away from her lips, down her face, to her neck. He was kissing her very softly now, teasing her, making her flesh tingle as his lips brushed her skin gently.
"Harder," she pleaded in a moan, hearing him chuckle as his kiss became more passionate, his tongue lapping at her. She felt a sharp canine press against her neck, and realised his fangs were out. It didn't bother her. Despite the fear, she wanted this so much. Her heart pounded, and she closed her eyes in bliss.
He pressed his fangs into her vein. The initial pain was blinding, and Lucia's eyes snapped open, now glowing red. She screamed, realising that her own teeth had become pointed. She was the Wolf.
The pain continued as he suckled at her wound, taking her fresh blood. Lucia could only whimper, feeling herself become weak from the blood loss. She wrapped her arms around his torso to support herself as her legs gave way. So this was what it was like to die. The pain seemed to become dull, though Lucia knew it was still as sharp as it had been before. Bright lights flashed before her eyes, and still he drank her blood...
Then he pulled back, holding Lucia's head up with one hand. His hair was rumpled, his eyes bright, his lips wet with her blood. She felt weak, her breathing becoming shallower.
"Bite me," Vladislaus instructed. "You know you want to. Take my blood, Lucia."
He turned his head slightly so that the throbbing vein in his neck was visible clearly. Lucia ran her tongue over her teeth, which were still pointed. She did want to bite him, she knew his blood would save her. She wasn't thinking, she was only doing, and before she knew it, she had bitten his neck and was latched onto it, feeling his warm blood spill into her mouth. It tasted good; Vladislaus tasted good.
It flowed down her throat, and she felt strong; she felt much better. That's when she heard Gabriel's voice in her head.
"Lucia! What are you doing? He has turned you; your soul is damned!"
She pulled away suddenly, staring at the Vampire with tears in her eyes. She knew what had happened. She had given up her route to Heaven.
Vladislaus held her close. Darkness fell outside. She sobbed into his chest, and decided against her better will that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.
TBC.
