A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long, but I've had a bad case of Writer's Block lately and a lot of homework to do. I'll keep working at it.

Carpe Noctem

I woke up confused. Was I in the ER again? I remembered passing out, a Code-C…oh, right. Dracula had found me and I gave myself to him. Hmm. I didn't like the sound of that. I belonged to no one, not even Dracula. I wanted to know everything that he had to teach me, but I would not belong to him. I would never do that for anyone.

I sat up slowly and looked around. I was lying on a lavish bed in an opulent bedchamber fit for a princess. Or a prince, actually, as I realized that this was the bedroom where I had seen Damien sired in my dream. I looked around, but he wasn't there. Not that I could see, leastways. Neither was Dracula for that matter. I was all alone. Where was Dracula? Where was I? I rolled my neck around, hearing and feeling it crack sharply, before I slid off the bed. I felt fine, stronger than ever and more aware of everything around me. From a good six feet away, I could feel the pleasant warmth of the fire. What was going on? Why did I feel so…good? Unnaturally good, I mean. Phenomenal, really. Amazing. But why?

"Do you like it?"

I looked over my shoulder. I had heard someone's almost-silent breathing in the doorway for a few moments before. I wondered about that too. "Like what?"

Dracula – for of course it was he – chuckled. "Come stand by me, Ebony." Puzzled, I did so. Dracula stood before a full-length mirror. His reflection didn't appear in it. And neither did mine. I gasped softly, reaching out to touch the glass. I had no reflection; I had no shadow even. I was…not human anymore. Dracula smiled as he put his hands on my shoulders lovingly.

"What? How?" I said softly. "When did this happen?"

"When I took you from your school," Dracula answered. "I took your blood and mixed it with my own when you died. I made you like me. My daughter, given life through my blood."

"The transfusion," I whispered. "Mary Heller's blood was mixed with yours. It was yours."

"Yes." Dracula got a distant, almost sad look in his eyes. "Mary and I were never to be; I know that now. But you are different from her. You haven't been poisoned with foolish Christian ideals about right and wrong, good and evil. You are pure, perfect. My daughter." He smiled fondly at me and brushed a lock of hair out of my face lovingly. I smiled back.

"Where's Damien?" I asked.

"He is resting," said Dracula. "We must not disturb him; he's had a hard first night."

"So you did take him last night," I said musingly. Dracula cocked an eyebrow.

"How did you know that?"

"I had a dream about it. I saw you both in this room. I watched you…sire him. I saw it all, how he fought you and how you killed him. You said you wanted him for me."

"Yes, I did," Dracula was silent for a moment. I looked at him closely.

"Who are you? You are not the infamous Vlad the Impaler, known widely as Dracula and my very great grandfather. I know you're not. I saw something when you drank from me…a memory or something. A tree, and a sunset I think. It might have been sunrise. What was that? Who was the man hanging from the tree? Was that you?"

"Yes, it was," answered Dracula. "It's surprising that you gained that knowledge when I strove to prevent it, but you are unnaturally strong. And I suppose you have a right to know. My name was once Judas Iscariot, but I will no longer answer to that title."

"You're the apostle who betrayed Christ in the story?" I whispered.

"It's no story, my dear," he replied heavily. "It all happened. And as punishment, I was cursed to this existence. Or maybe blessed, in a way. I have overcome that fear of never being released to Heaven. Christ made the world in His image; now I make it in mine. I drink the blood of His children, giving them eternal life when I wish and all the pleasure that He denied them. I shouldn't have been allowed to live after my betrayal. What was once hell on Earth is now my own dark Heaven. I've grown very fond of living, of watching the decades go by, slipping in between them when I wish. I've grown very fond of my supremacy over humans. I enjoy watching them, constantly struggling with each other and their own pathetic notions of how life should be lived. And I've grown very fond of you. From the moment my blood in Mary's entered your veins, I was connected to you. And what a strong connection it was. I sensed in you a kindred spirit; one whose darkness rivals my own. I wanted you, even if you hadn't had my blood. However, then you would not have been able to revive me. Still, I'm sure you would have found a way." I smiled a little.

"Necromancy is a little beyond my reach," I said softly. "But then, you weren't exactly dead." I sighed and stretched. "I have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach."

"You need to feed," said Dracula. "Come. I will teach you how."

About an hour later we returned to the castle where I had awakened. Dracula had shown me how to hunt and cover my kill. I had fed on a man who thought he would rape and murder me. Boy was he in for a shock. I wanted to talk to Damien, but he was nowhere to be found so Dracula advised me to just let him come back on his own. He was still adapting. I reached out with my mind, trying to touch Damien's and let him know where I was and that I was OK. I thought I succeeded, but I wasn't quite sure.

Well, whatever. He'd come back soon.

"So…what should I call you?" I asked Dracula. He looked at me curiously. "I mean, you don't like 'Judas', and calling you 'Dracula' just seems weird. So you have another name?" Dracula laughed.

"I have many," he replied. "But you may call me Vladimir. A little generic, I know, but only in your century. That name commanded much fear and respect centuries ago when I first used it."

"I can see why," I said. "It means 'universal ruler' in Slavic. All right. Vladimir." I smiled up at him. He put his arm around my shoulders lovingly, smiling at me. We had done a little shopping in the hour we were away as well; I was now dressed in a gorgeous velvet corset top in black velvet with a blood red velvet front panel and rich gothic embroidery, along with a deep two-tone wine red skirt with soft black net overlay and further top layer that tied around my waist, also of soft black net, with black embroidered edging. I had also gotten some strappy black sandals and gorgeous Gothic jewelry: a black organza choker with a large garnet accent, black chain and multiple mini-sized garnet accents, silver-winged black jewel heart studs in my second earring holes and upside-down dangling bats hanging from blood red jewels in my first holes. On my left hand I wore a Lamentian ring and a Mircalla bracelet on my wrist, both by Alchemy Gothic, and on the right I wore a fabulous old slave bracelet with stunning garnets and intricate filigree metal work that I had gotten on eBay a while back. I felt more beautiful than I ever had before, and I was sure that my natural beauty (what there was) had been enhanced by the transformation. I felt like no man on Earth could resist me, and I liked pretending that it was true (hey, it was my first night as a vampire, I'm allowed to have some fun).

Dracula – I mean, Vladimir – took my hand in his. "There's someone here I want you to meet. A friend of mine. His presence here I suppose is sort of a gift to you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, smiling. I loved the mystery and intrigue that Vladimir's very presence exuded. I loved his way of speaking, how everything was a big mystery. He smiled at me and led me to the fireplace in my bedchamber. The fire had long since gone out, so Vladimir reached back and pressed a stone in the fireback. To my surprise, the fireback opened up to reveal a winding, descending stairway. Vladimir walked in – the fireplace was so tall that even he could walk through standing upright – and turned back to me with a smile. Slowly, seductively, he offered his hand to me. I took it, trusting him not to lead me to danger. Down we went, into the deep darkness. After what seemed like a long time, we came to a chamber at the bottom of the stairs. Inside was decorated in a very Spartan style: a desk and chair, a few candelabra around the room, a wardrobe, and a large bed in the very middle. Lying in the bed was a handsome man with glossy black hair, which shone with a silvery sheen like moonlight, hanging down to his chin in the front and tied back in a ponytail that brushed his shoulder blades in the back. He was rather pale, but not quite as pale as I was – or had been when I was alive. The man wasn't wearing a shirt, revealing a very muscular build and a terrific six-pack that I quickly looked away from. This man was so familiar…I was sure I had seen him before.

Before I could finish my musings, the man stirred and rose, stretching slowly. I watched him, vaguely fascinated with his every movement. Why did I know him? Where had I seen him before? I felt I was about to get my answer, but I wasn't sure if I would like it.

"Vlad? Is that you?" the man asked groggily. "Oi, how long did I sleep this time?"

"Only an hour past sunset," replied Vladimir coolly. "Now, there's someone here you have to meet."

"Oh, sure," said the man distantly, rubbing his eyes and slipping out of bed.

"Gerry, I'd like you to meet Ebony," said Vladimir, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Ebony Dragulia." The man – Gerry – froze. Then, slowly, he raised his head and looked at me with silvery-grey eyes. Silvery-grey eyes exactly like mine. I gasped as I realized now where I knew this man from.

"Daddy?"