It must have been a terrible shock for the pretty gypsy princess, ripped from Heaven's loving arms and cast back to the unfeeling earth, thought Dracula with a smile. "A drowned rat" was a common expression he had heard, and none more aptly suited his prize at this moment. Anna's once glorious dark ringlets hung matted with blood and leaves, and crimson droplets clung to the down of her grayed skin. The eyes that long ago shone like jewels bore a vacant look, now. Yes, her body was very much dead, but it would - in time - regain its former liveliness. He had to be patient.

"You were scattered on the four winds before I collected you," Dracula said quietly. He dipped a pitcher into the warm water of the bath and gently poured it over Anna's bare shoulders, watching as it rippled down her neck and between her breasts.

The subtle flutter of her eyelashes was the only indication she felt anything at all. Pitiful bedraggled thing, thought the count. She had once been beautiful and strong... and she would be again.

"But the winds still answer to me," Dracula continued with a note of pride. "Have you any idea the time and agony it took to revive you?"

Anna's breath rattled slowly in and out of her chest. She gazed into nothingness.

The count emptied another pitcher down the nape of her neck, admiring it as he did so. Despite the harsh effects of death, Anna's form had lost none of its grace.

"Countless months I spent awaiting your ashes and bleeding myself nearly dry so that I could one day restore you to physical form," he said. "And at last..."

He smiled as he worked to loosen Anna's knotted locks.

"At last you are reborn. Not as you were before, no, but in time you will be so much more."

Anna was unfazed.

"Do you hear me, Princess?" Dracula sneered. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him, hideous as he was.

She blinked but remained unmoved.

There was a time when she would have fought him, but her will seemed to have abandoned her in death. Of course, this would make her easier to control but far less interesting as a mate.

"You are reborn of MY blood. Of MY essence," he growled. "That makes you mine, Anna Valerious. Do you say nothing?"

Anna inhaled slowly, carefully and exhaled with equal care.

"What is it?" Dracula hissed, tightening his grip. "I know you want to speak."

Anna swallowed and licked her cracked lips.

"You..." she rasped.

Her chest rose and fell.

"Talk... too much..."

Dracula's lone eye blazed with fury before he threw back his head and issued a low laugh.

His grin quickly faded. He moved close to Anna's ear.

"Be thankful that I pity you," he whispered so delicately that Anna felt his words more than she heard them. "I will not be so kind when we are both... ourselves... again."