Queen of the Damned

Chapter 11: Cadence

Disclaimer: I only own Nerys. Every thing else belongs to God-knows-who.

Rated PG-13

A/N: Yes, yes, I know it's been quite a long time, but this is it. The FINAL chapter. Hurray! I truly you hope everybody enjoys this, and enjoyed it as much as I have.

DarkBird1345: Thank you for reviewing!

CK: Once again, my chapter has come late, but maybe the chapter will make up for it? I'm sorry! Please review!

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Lady Gwyneth: I'm sorry if I drove you insane, but please read anyway! Thanks for reviewing!

Eth: I know it's a bit confusing, but I think it's supposed to be. I don't rightly know, but please review again.

Remember: Again, I am blown away by your review! Believe me, that's a good thing! I sat there reading it and couldn't help but giggle with joy. I'll try my best not to disappoint you with this finale, as long as you review again!

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Fortune Zyne: Sad song fits? If it makes it better. I'm glad you like!

Please enjoy!

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The Frankenstein monster rattled its chains as it was brought up to the tower, crying out in anguish and fear. She shut away the curses and screams as she felt something change and twist. Did she not feel the heart of Prince Velkan fade? How so was there a werewolf in the castle? Surely he bit someone then. But who dared enter the abode of the Count and his minions?

The only living being who would have done such a thing would be Princess Anna. The foolish girl. Unless . . .

Van Helsing!

Yes it made perfect sense! But it was impossible for them to reach these grounds. For almost four hundred years the mysteries of this Castle have escaped the gypsies. But then again, that lowly friar did seem to question more than was healthy.

But it would do no good to worry about such things now. The Dwergi could take care of things for the time being, and then they would just have to cross that bridge when it came.

The screams of the beast echoed off the stonewalls of the tower as he was strapped (rather painfully) into the lift. Nerys did her best to ignore the cries as she stared out the window, hoping to get a glance at the strange mystery she had glimpsed before. Normally, she would not be so concerned. But something about the light screamed out at her, pulled her into lost thoughts of wonder about it.

But those damn shouts of a tortured soul pierced her marveling, pulling her back into the reality that she had so come to question. For a total of 378 years Nerys had lived like this, as a vampire; unable to die, unable to live. To be truthful, she did not fully expect such an existence when she had accepted Dracula's proposal of turning. This was not what she had in mind. She had adapted to this life with reluctance, but she did do it. She had no choice at this point. Whereas Aleera, Marishka, and Verona had adjusted to this hell willingly, if only for there love and lust for the Count.

She felt so out of place, here as the walking dead. And she couldn't help but continue to question this life as those confusing dreams insisted on haunting her. It didn't help that she felt like something bad was going to happen, either.

Nerys swung her legs over the edge of the tower, sitting on ancient bricks. Her eyes closed.

Tears swept her cheeks, and she wiped them away furiously, making her fingertips slick. They slipped around the smooth hilt of the dagger, the cool metal pressed to her pale wrist. Blonde strands obscured her vision, blinding her, and the knife fell from her arm to her lap.

It made no sound as it tucked away into the folds of her elegant skirts. She made no move to retrieve it; rather one hand clung desperately to the pendant about her neck. A silver cross bejeweled by blood-rubies and the purest of diamonds.

But it shouldn't mean anything to her. A small trinket average for any respectable woman to wear. A praying device, nothing more. And she didn't even pray with it anymore. Oh, she had for a while, before she realized with boiling spite that never were her prayers neither answered nor listened to.

What had she done? What terrible sin had driven this torture upon her? Could there be no amends? The Bible spoke of forgiveness and comfort and joy in the Lord, but she received none. All this loneliness darkened her mind, shunned her faith, set into motion the hate that would condemn her to a life without love. Did she have any lone now? For herself, for others/ Didn't anyone love her? She wasn't so sure anymore. But she was sure of one thing.

God had deserted her.

And with that she tore the chain from her neck and threw across the room in blind fury.

A gentle hand on her shoulder aroused her from her thoughts.

"Never have you been alone." That voice was not that of her husband's.

She swiveled around but found no one. She shivered. Perhaps she had imagined it.

Lightning struck again at the pod of Frankenstein, his bellows echoing in the frostbitten fortress. Dracula's voice mingled with it as he called out, "One more bolt and my young shall live!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Van Helsing. Oh, how she had anticipated this moment, to be given the chance to strike down her foe with the rage that tore inside her. That flame she had kept hidden for so long resurfaced, its power tenfold.

The irrational beast-hunter ripped away the straps that held Frankenstein in place, leaving wounds from the bars that had been plunged deep into his chest. When Van Helsing looked up from his work, he found the Queen of the Damned staring down at him from the other side of the monster.

As beautiful as ever with golden locks, dangerously blue eyes, and the unnatural pallor that haunts the dead. Two, sharp fangs poked out from lush, pink lips.

"Then it is a good that you don't get any say about it.' And the then she lashed out at him, her arm hitting him in the chest, knocking him off his feet. Dracula appeared behind her, bat form leathered and gray. His face was bat-like, unlike his brides. Nerys could feel the bloodlust rolling off him in waves, and he attacked at Van Helsing, effectively knocking back into the drop of the tower.

One last shock racked through the body of the hideous monster, and knocked him off the tower. She watched him swing away wildly on a wire.

"Why are you so haunted, sweet Nerys?" His voice was soft and velvety. His thumb stroked her tear-stained cheek tenderly, and his other hand was held loosely in hers. Her eyes were dry, but she still couldn't bring them up to meet with his own. So she stared at their joint hands.

"You don't have to be so sad, Lady. There are ways to rid yourself of grief. To start over, sins forgotten." He placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her face to see him. Tears had already started to swarm her vision again, but she repressed them.

Nerys released her grip on his hands, and brought them to fall around his neck, drawing him closer. Just to be near him was the comfort she so sought. She could stay like this forever.

His lips met hers with familiarity. Her hands drifted into his dark hair, so opposite from hers. They stayed like this for a while, his lips lovingly massaging hers as her rubbed small circles in her back. He pulled away to place a small, yet intimate kiss on her neck, making her tremble as she always did when he kissed her there.

"How? Please, tell me how to escape this suffering!"

She watched in third person as her lover, Dracula took his first bite, drank from her, and she from him. Watched on as he placed her into his coffin with care that drew forth all irony. He closed the lid, crossed the room, and kicked that cross pendant into a box on the floor, locking it away fro the next four hundred years.

Hands were on her shoulders, but she remained in that room, even after Dracula had left. Those hands held her in place, brotherly and kind. She could not shake them off, but found herself not wanting to anyway.

"So fervently I prayed for you that day, Danelle. I despaired, for you had been tainted and twisted into believing the contrary of why you were sent here, to Earth. But I found comfort in the Lord our God, for he sees and has seen all. He told me that redemption would come for you in time, but you were not done here."

It was that same voice that whispered to her, sweet with honey and truth and love. Love. Those hands gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze, before drawing away. The being that had spoken to her, guided her, took shape and form before her, and she was amazed. Pearly white robes that bent the reflected light to shift colors every time he so much as moved. Blonde hair, purer than hers, glowed with that same light, as did his eyes. But that was not what caught her attention most.

Large, engulfing wings of the most pure form of white, delicate feathers that nothing else fathomed to in touch. The folded against his back as he stepped in front of her, smiling. In his right hand he held a sword of fire, blazing majestically.

"You… you," but Nerys could not put together any other words other than: "You're so beautiful." And he laughed then, a sound more joyous and beautiful than any other.

"You have forgotten much then, Danelle. Surely you will faint with the joy of the Lord. But now is the time to remember, Danelle. You and Gabriel both. You have faltered, but this is the time. Today is the day of salvation!" He gently lifted the coffin lid with one hand, reveling the hidden, dead beauty within.

Nerys cried out at her lifeless form, the scars that littered her wrists. Her fingers glided over the scars that adorned her cursed body, and she remembered the fear and pain and loneliness and the misery. It flooded her and she fell to the carpets of the chamber.

And then she really remembered.

Swords lashed out at demons, kneeling before the Lord, spreading her wings over the world. It consumed her, filled her with joy, replenished her faith, made her smile and weep. Laughing gleefully among the others, in the beautiful Heaven, worshipping and singing and praying with Gabriel, and

"Michael?" Nerys' voice was barely a whisper, merely a breath that escaped her lips. His smile grew and she bounded at him, arms encircling his torso like a sister would a brother. For he was her brother, forgotten to her for too long. She wept against him with joy as he sang to her of the Lord's love.

"What happened, Michael? What happened to me?"

"Never were you alone. Just confused." She pulled away from him slightly.

"Dracula. I was sent – Gabriel and I were sent to kill him. Weren't we?" Her eyes became fearful.

"You were sent to stop him, little one. But I know what makes you fearful. You love him, as he does you. Evil cannot love, dear Danelle." She drew farther away from him.

"What are you saying?" He smiled again.

"I'm saying that everyone who asks for forgiveness will find it in the Lord."

And suddenly they were no longer in the little chamber, but back on the tower, looking down into the base as werewolf and vampire fought on. So much had happened since her thoughts had simply drifted away.

"You know what to do, Danelle. You remember. Do it." Nerys, or should I say Danelle, nodded, closing her eyes. Something silky flittered across her half-bare back, and she knew what it was. Her laughter rang out as she reached back to touch the supple feathers.

Nerys dove, wings spreading behind her, no longer the dead, leathery substance they once were. The large clock tower chimed with midnight.

Gabriel Van Helsing, the Wolf hunched over the bat of Dracula, teeth bared and readied over the vampire's neck, a twisted irony of fate. But he was thrown away from his enemy by Nerys, who crouched over her husband.

"Wife? What . . ." His voice choked in his throat as he looked upon her brilliance, radiating a holy light. "I should have know," he whispered. She pressed a finger to his lips.

"Hush love." Her mind was protected by God, her body protected by God. She had hated him, then cried for him, asked him to claim redemption. He should of known.

"Angel? I should have known. None else could love me," he turned his eyes from hers, wincing as he shifted his injured arm. She said nothing, staring down at him with love and sweet sadness.

"He loves you. You know this. You only need ask." She smooth tendrils of dark hair from his transformed face, planting a small kiss on his lips, trying not to shrink away from the burn of his lips where hers had touched his.

"You ask too much, Ner— Ah!" A mighty roared escaped him as sharp canines bit down into the flesh of his shoulder, pain unbearable, and a death that he knew would come swiftly to him.

"No!" His sweet wife cried out, once again throwing the werewolf away from the pair. Her hands held his face, his eyes loosing focus as the venom disagreed with the virus already holding him. Tears streamed down her face to land on his.

"Please say it, love. Ask for forgiveness, so that we may be together! I love you!" Nerys screamed, kissing him again. Dracula's limbs went limp, his head lolling in her hands, eyes loosing shine.

"Please forgive me." Those were the last words of Count Vladislaus Dragulia.

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The fire burned deep, the body of the Princess Anna of the gypsies fading into nothing but ashes. It had been three days since the fateful night. Three days since she had come to terms with her true self. Three days since Gabriel had also gone through the process of understanding his place in life here on Earth. Three days since, in his madness, he had killed his love, and been cured at the same time.

But redemption came, and now they waited their turn, to be accepted into the realm of Heaven.

And when she reached those Golden Gates, she found her handsome, ever-loving husband inside.

FIN

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A/N: WOO-HOO! It's finally finished! Hallelujah! I want feedback. What do you think? Hate it? Love it? I, personally, am just glad to be done with it. It took too long. But it's done now. Yay! You guys want to know a secret? When I first started this story, I had absolutely no plot for it at all. Who would have known it would be so successful? ;-)