Authors Notes: SORRY! This chapter was delayed for real life problems! Boo problems! Ah well…Anyways, this has been a loooooooooooooong time coming. Prepare your senses! And I shall prepare myself for the hate-filled reviews. Can. Not. WAIT. XDXD Enjoy!

WARNING: This chapter is rated M. You have been warned.

Love or Blood

Chapter Thirty-Three: Sweet Shattering

xxxx

The Count's manor was quiet when I entered. All was still and soothing, the familiarity of it helped ease some of the tension from my shoulders. I locked the door behind me and sighed. I felt heavy, like a laden brick had settled into my very core. I did not sleep well and was still so very distressed over…everything. I wanted things to be back the way they were.

I placed my forehead to the cool wood of the door and closed my eyes. Where and when did everything inside castle Skingrad go so astray? Despite desperately being on my best behavior and putting the greater good before whatever foolish sentiment I might have towards the Count, I felt I had made a terrible mistake. But even if I could I would not take it back. I am a no one - I am a charity, I am not worthy of the attention of the Count, platonic or no.

Just the idea of the Count's kindness being more than friendly compassion sent unpleasant shivers up my spine, and a mental block would form in my head. I could not think on it. I could not understand it…best if it just goes away like it never was.

With great effort I turned away from the door and walked down the corridor. I lifted my chin so I did not seem so downtrodden as I approached the Count's bedchamber. I knocked with my usual rhythm and awaited his call.

I stood idly for a moment as I stared at the brass knocker; half expecting the Count to pull the door open for me as he sometimes did. After several minutes passed I knocked again. Still no one answered. I bit my lip, my first fear was that he was mad at me, my second was that he was asleep. Hesitantly I called to him, "Sir? It's eight o'clock, I am here as you asked." There was no response. I was tempted to open the door, but when my fingers grazed the handle I decided against it. Whatever the Count was doing was most likely private and it would be foolish for me to interfere.

I shifted my footing and looked about the hall. All was peaceful and still. I wondered how long I should wait outside his room and if he would be cross at me for lingering in his doorway. I felt oddly relieved and anxious about not seeing him right away. With another sigh I took another step further from the door and then another, until I stood in the middle of the hallway. "Sir, shall wait for you in the library?" I called. I made a little face at the lack of response and decided it best to simply do as stated. "I will await your command in the library, Sir."

Again I waited and heard nothing. With the smallest of shrugs I turned back down the hall and entered the library.

XXXX

The Count was still seated on the floor with his back pressed against the wall, one arm dangling limply on his knee. He had sat there – remained there – since the previous evening, all the while watching Rona with a calculating stare. On occasion his hands would tremble, or he would unknowingly begin labored breathing. His anger and depression had not been pacified and as the time stretched on Janus was only reminded of eternity. Was this how Rona expected him to live, to sit and watch her unmoving body forever?

It was maddening, it was hellish. His eyes screwed tightly together as he let his head fall back against the stone. He swallowed hard and felt as if he were drowning. But there was no air for a vampire, at least not needed. Still the feeling stayed with him as prominent as his catatonic wife opposite the room.

"I think…I think I shall count to three. If you answer me I shall end your life as you wish. If you do not then here you remain." Janus offered to his unmoving wife. He allowed another bout of quiet before he began. "One," He started with a sigh. "Two," Again not expecting anything, "…Three."

Silence.

Despite knowing full well that Rona would not respond to his offer, he still was offended by her lack of actions. His knuckles went white as he slowly rose to his feet with all the inhumanly cool grace of a vampire. He strode over to Rona's bedside and touched her taught cheek. "Do you like it when I touch you, do you feel it?" He asked in a murmur, eyes unfocused on her face. His voice lowered further and he leaned in closer. "Because I don't."

With blindingly fast movements the Count picked up Rona's nightstand and threw it across the room. It landed in a scattering heap among her many other personal possessions. He tore at several of his wife's tapestries, making the room more cold and heavy than ever before. His chest heaved; his lips were pulled back into a snarl as his eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for more things to take his anger out upon.

His eyes fell on Rona and in seconds he was at her side again. The Count reached up and grabbed his left hand, pulling ruthlessly on the small golden band that had been a part of him for years. He removed it and slammed it down upon one of the jutting stones on the wall. The gold winked at him and he stared it down as though the ring itself had done him a great personal wrong. Janus then turned back to his wife, "I am your husband no longer." He snapped. "The mere thought of you loathes me. I despise your very presences!" He ruthlessly pulled one of the sheets off of Rona's bed and stared disgustedly at her expensive attire. "I will no longer waste my time, energy, love or gold on you! YOU ARE A CORPSE!" He roared, pointing incredulously at the unmoving woman.

His nostrils flared at her irresponsiveness. "A corpse...you shall be treated as such." And with that final verbal blow, the Count laid the sheet out over the body of his wife.

With shaking hands, he smoothed his hair down, and eyes his handiwork. The look of his wife covered by a sheet was oddly chilling and comforting. He could pretend that she was gone. Really, really gone…

From above him the Count heard footsteps. His fangs pressed against his gums at the person who was in his manor. He knew just who that someone was and now had the great intent of getting her affection this time. He was no longer to be ignored by Rona or Abigale Lynn. He was going to make his intentions very clear. He would take Abigale Lynn. He would keep her with him forever, whether she found it 'morale' or not.

xxxx

Roughly an hour passed as I waited for the Count. The manor was still and silent as the grave. I sat in an over plush reading chair by the unlit fireplace. I was cold so I had one arm wrapped around myself while the other carefully held a copy of a book called, The Third Door. The Count had given me access to his library so I was finally using the privilege.

My fingers felt icy from balancing the book. I had not lit the fireplace, deciding it best to endure with only sparse candlelight. I did not know where the Count was or what he was doing but I thought it best to remain waiting away from his bedchamber. I did not think he was in any danger as he was a vampire and posed a great threat to any who dared try harming him.

I turned another page in the book, finding the contents hard to grasp as I mused over the doings of my missing Count; I was trying not to think of him but was finding it impossible to not do so. Being tardy was very unlike the Count so I had hoped that he was sleeping. However I soon found that he was not.

A loud bang resonated within the library's walls as the Count flung the door open with much unneeded strength. I jumped in my seat, gripping the armrest, book long forgotten on the floor. The Count scanned the room, his gaze was crazed and purposeful, his body language more so. After a few moments of him peering around the room he finally turned to face me. "I've been looking for you." He stated lowly. His icy tone chilled me to the bone. I immediately knew something was wrong.

I swallowed hard, rigid in the chair. "I have been here, Sir. You did not answer your door. I thought it best to wait."

"You thought?" He asked darkly. I nodded to him and cautiously placed my hands in my lap. The Count came closer and I was taken aback by his appearance. I had never seen him so disheveled before. He wore his black pants and boots, but only had a loose white undershirt on his upper body. The lacing up the chest was undone leaving a shallow V shaped collar, which I then noticed was covered with small blots of dried blood. "That is all you ever do." He snapped, bringing me out of my shocked stupor. "All you ever do is think! You try hard to figure out how to weasel your way around real action and responsibility."

My mouth went dry and a cold sweat formed on my brow as I tried to pull my attention away from the newfound blood on his sleeves. His words confused me. They were quick and grated and hard for my suddenly reeling mind to grasp.

"Do not ignore me, dammit! I shall be ignored no longer, by you or anyone else!" He nearly shouted, causing me to jump backwards further in my chair. I stared up at his glowering form. His chest was heaving, hair disheveled and eyes crazed. My stomach knotted and all that I had thought I knew or felt for the Count was gone. The man before me was a stranger, a stranger who I felt had the mind to do me harm.

My hair stood on edge and I suppressed the tremble that worked its way up my spine. Obviously I had done something wrong, very, very wrong. It upset him to the point of violence, this much was apparent.

I stayed motionless in the chair, far too stunned to move; like a wounded deer caught in a meadow. "Sir please what...what is wrong?" Slowly and so very guardedly did I speak. Not knowing how he would react once sound left me. I tried to gather my quick and fleeting thoughts, wondering what I had done to so anger the Count. He had always been a man of quick temper but this…this was wrong.

"What do you think is wrong, Abigale Lynn, hmm?" He mocked, causing me to shake my head in bewilderment. I opened my mouth to speak but his gaze made any words quickly die in my throat. I closed my mouth as quickly as I opened it and shook my head again. "Think hard girl. How I wish I could simply write you off as stupid. You won't get away with it this time."

"What am I getting away with?" I asked bewilderedly, staring wide-eyed at the man who could change his mood at the drop of a septim. I was so perplexed, so confused, my cheeks became hot with frustration, my limbs cold from my rigid posture. "Sir what did I… Sir please just—"

"Do you wish to beg me? Do you truly? You push me to the point where I doubt your sincerity. I can easily make you sincere." At his words I blanched. The realization of his threat hitting me with full force. I did not know what I could have done to warrant such wrath. I gulped, I could not take my eyes away from him, I was afraid. "Well? I am not a patient man."

I tried frantically to bring some sort of conclusion to my mind but was unable to form coherent thoughts as he loomed over me. His irritability was boundless and I was now entirely afraid of the Count. Any small fears that I had overtime silenced were now prominent and bold. They stormed the forefront of my mind and muted any rational I had.

I could not lean any further back as he placed both hands on either side me, grasping the armrests with ample pressure. He knelt down so that we were nose to nose and I found myself holding my breath. I wanted to say something, to ask him why, perhaps even comfort him, but nothing but fear swelled in my chest as I bit my lip and stared into the eyes of my livid master. And in that moment I was again reminded of the fear I used to harbor; I was a slave and he was my master. It is most terrifying to have someone rule your life and everything you do. More so when they are angry at you and you haven't the foggiest clue why. You cannot even think a reason up as the unbridled fear stifles all rationality.

With lightning fast movements I was pulled out of the chair. The Count's hand was tightly wrapped around my arm. He had hauled me up so roughly that I was stunned into silence. My fear was overwhelming, shock from the Count's aggressive actions had me staring at him as though he was some beast in a child's tale.

Instinctively, or perhaps out of stupidity, I began to pull away. Physically he was unfazed but otherwise my gesture of refusal was not looked upon kindly. "You dare try to resist me? You find me so repulsive?"

"No!" I managed, but was unsure what I was saying no to.

"Admit to me your falsities. Admit the truth!" The Count demanded.

His hold on my arm was beginning to ache. I winced and placed my hand on his, trying to gently coax him into releasing me. "Sir!" I finally managed in exasperation. "I-I've done nothing to you! Let me go, please!"

His expression went from anger to hurt in seconds, his grip on my arm slackened but did not release. "You think you've done nothing to me?" I remained silent as he looked away from me, staring off into nothing. For a moment I felt relief, and then he turned back to me with anger rekindled and dangerous. "You impossible fool…I will show you what you've done."

This time I could not keep the small startled yelp from escaping me as I was again dragged, this time out of the library. The Count stormed down the hall with me hurriedly following close behind as his grip prevented otherwise. He marched towards his bedchamber and I found myself nearly breathless from panic. What could he possibly have to show me?

As his bedchamber door slammed closed behind us I felt my blood go cold. He was irrational and frightening. I did not know what to do or say to stop his anger. His grip on my arm was no longer painful but it was ever-present as he brought me into the middle of the room. There I was finally released, I cradled my arm and looked down at the fading handprint, unbelieving that the Count would ever touch me so cruelly.

He began pacing feverishly across the carpet. I stood still as a statue with my hands clutched to my chest. Again, I did not know what to do. The door behind me was a welcoming thought but I felt it wrong to abandon him. It was also foolish of me to think of fleeing. Where would I go? It wasn't possible to outrun a vampire.

The imagery of him chasing me anywhere made my lower lip tremble. I bit it quickly and hard, enough so that I accidentally drew blood.

His pacing stopped abruptly and he turned to face me again. "Do you see what you do to me, Abigale Lynn? For decades I have lived in solitude, content in my suffering, then you…" He swore and turned away from me again. "You have taken away my peace of mind, my solace, my unbroken silence. You dared make me feel and then you mock me for it."

"Y-your silence, Sir?" I managed through trembling lips. "I-I can go…I-I will go back t-to the Maids Quarters. I –"

"Do not dare leave me!" He shouted, making me nearly fall backwards at the outburst. "Do you enjoy making me out as a fool? You bewitcher! I intentionally locked myself away from the world. YOU broke IN! You have wreaked havoc on my soul. You've made me care about you! Then when I…you deny me. You dare deny ME!" He pointed an incredulous finger at my person as he began advancing. I backed up. Before I could blink he had me by my shoulders. Immediately I tried to push away. My mind went frantic, my heart hammered in my ears. "Who are you to deny me?! I am the Count of Skingrad! I own you!"

I closed my eyes tight, fearing and awaiting the blow that never came. "Sir! No!" I pleaded as I again tried to push him away. He was so much larger than me, tall and broad and heavy. No pushing moved him, his strength was infinite, and I felt so small and helpless. "Stop it! Please, let go!" His hands engulfed my shoulders and most of my upper arms. His eyes were heated, his brow was furrowed and to my utmost horror his fangs were bared. Upon seeing his teeth exposed like daggers I faltered and froze. My breath hitched and eyes widened further. "N-n-no." I shook my head violently and again attempted to pull away from him. "No Sir! Stop!"

"I will remind you of your place!" He snarled as he pulled my body against his. He wrapped one arm around me and used his free hand to reach up to the collar of my blouse. With a harsh yank, buttons flew and my nearly naked chest was exposed to the night air.

I shrieked and pleaded again. For a moment he was distracted by the torn cloth in his hands. I used that moment to wiggle almost out of arms reach from him. It did not matter as I was again grabbed and pressed against one of the large decorative pillars of his room.

The realization of it all hit me. Was I going to die? What had happened?

I was too afraid to weep as my eyes darted on his every taught feature. So tense and strained and hateful; like I was the reason for all the wrong in his life and he was finally able to exact his revenge. My body felt too hot and too cold all at the same time. My stomach hurdled. Everything shook, all my movements useless jitters as the Count pressed his body flush to mine. We were so close and my hands had been pinned between our bodies, rendered useless. He ran his fingers up my bare neck and then into my hair. He whispered my name, almost sweetly, and then he wrenched my head violently to the side.

I opened my mouth to shout but the small pain he had just inflicted vanished in comparison once he descended on me. His breath was strangely cold against my skin and it was the last minor sensation I had before nothing but agony stormed my senses.

His fangs forced their way through my flesh, puncturing deep; I felt the sickening and painful tug and give as they made their way in. I was keenly aware of their length as they sunk into me. The pain made my ears ring. It was white hot and sharp. Every movement I made worsened it. The Count groaned into my skin as I felt him suckling at my lifeblood like a babe to his mother's milk. I whimpered but could not cry or struggle. I was too stunned, to hurt. I did not want to believe that this was happening. I wondered again if I was to die.

But then something more terrible happened. More pain, but unlike anything I had ever known wracked my body. It crippled me. A magical force seemed to take hold of my insides and grip them mercilessly. Everything seized and screamed. Every hair stood on end and every hair felt like a tiny blade, my innards felt like barbed coils, writhing inside. Something was wrong.

The pain, though present, began to subside and cold took its place. Nothing but cold. My feet and hands began to tingle, my body felt slack. My eyes closed of their own accord as a great fatigue took hold of me. I felt my own blood run across my skin. It felt hot. The Count's frantic feeding noises made me want to cringe but I lacked the strength to do so.

The Count growled as he pulled away from me. Without him pinning my body to the pillar, I collapsed to the floor. I heard my own heart beating in my ears as I fell. My hip, arm, then head hit the ground. It should have been painful but I felt nothing but cold as I landed on my side. The Count was talking to me as I lay there but his voice was far away and muffled. His boots clacked as he walked, the sound echoing in my mind.

"Abigale Lynn!" Came the pained cry of my mother late into the evening. "Oh Abigale, get in here please! I need you!"

"Mama?" I murmured into my arm, still sprawled on the floor.

"NO! Don't leave me! It's my heart that's sick, Hummingbird. My heart! Stay with me." I wanted to look up and see her but my head was too heavy. I could not let her see me like this. "My beautiful, beautiful, baby." She sniffed as her fingers ran through my hair. I bit my lip each time she touched me to keep from telling her not to. "So pretty…You're the prettiest girl in Anvil." She said in a singsong voice. "And the priestesses still want you at the chapel!"

"T-that's…that's 'cause they need to throw you…you out." I turned and pressed my cheek into the rug. My conscious was flickering. My life was flickering. Glimpses of the past pulled me away from the Count's bedchamber.

"And you know what?" My mother whispered, "One of these days one of these men are gonna' take you away and never let you go."

"No. No Mama." I whined.

"Fair enough, Miss Gale." The new voice… it puzzled me, but in it I found strength – if only out of pure curiosity.I managed to lift my head slightly to it. This voice was not my mother's but it was still so familiar. "I feel that this is where we must part." she said quietly, "For I fear that danger lies down this path," I groaned and pulled myself onto my elbows. "Whatever you get I'm sure you've more than deserved it. Shadow hide you, Gale."

"Shadow…Korana?"

"Lynn did the Count bite you?!" I heard Rheena gasp. "Your whiter than a ghost girl!" she said pointing.

When did all these people get here? Did they see what happened? Where was my mother?

With great effort I sat up more. At some point my hair had been untied. It hung in my face, making a red curtain around me. I groaned at the current ache in my neck. I reached up to massage it but took my hand away when it met something warm and slick. I brought my hand before my face and stared hard at my bloodstained fingertips.

Then reality came back to me in the form of a panicked wave. My head whipped around to see the Count looming over me. "No! No!" I found my voice and pleaded as I fell back unto my elbows. I tried to turn, to crawl or run but my body would not respond to the demands I made. It was slow, heavy and drained. My vision blurred and tunneled at my movements. I heard myself cry out as I rolled onto my stomach. I felt the Count's hands wrap around my waist and pull me up. He held me against him. One moment I was in his arms, the next we were in the hallway. My mind faded in and out and panicked me even more.

"Stop," I managed in-between bouts of consciousness. "No."

His hands slid over my hips and I swatted at air. I felt him tug something off me, followed by the sound of clanking medal. My keys. There was another sound as a door lock clicked and groaned open. I was then plopped unceremoniously unto something soft. A bed? I frantically fought for consciousness once I felt a mattress beneath me. I put nothing past the Count now. I watched him tilt his head as he looked me over. He was covered in my blood.

Anger suddenly raged inside me. I glared up at the man and fought my way into a sitting position. "You…" I breathed, trying to keep my eyes from rolling back. He was about to leave the room when I fell from the bed. I gathered myself on all fours. He moved to touch me. I lunged at him, jaws snapping. He quickly recoiled. I hadn't the strength to stand, I dragged myself across the floor. I growled. I was primal.

The Count's expression changed to one I did not understand. He turned and left the room, leaving me inside the blackness. I reached out for the bed to assist in my standing when I realized that it was not a bed at all. It was a cot. The very same cot I had slept on the night when I was caught inside Castle Skingrad. I took my hand away as though it was burned and scrambled to the door. As I reached it I heard the lock click.

"NO!" I shrieked as I clawed at the door. "Don't lock me up! Don't lock me up!" I pounded at the wood relentlessly and with all that I had in me. My blood was sticky on my cold skin. My sense of surroundings heightened at the realization of my imprisonment. I begged, pleaded and eventually began to sob. I was so tired and so cold.

So very cold.

Authors Notes: HATE ME TODAAAAAY. HATE ME TOMORROOOOOOOW. HAT E ME FOR ALL THE THINGS I MAKE THESE CHARACTERS DOOOOO. –Blue October…with some creative license. XD R+R if it pleases ya!