Author's Note

I do not own Young Dracula.

Big thank you to Helena Light and Liv3evil for the follows and favourites.


Sethius started gathering power and allies as soon as he could, and so Vlad began doing the same.

Of course, he could never trust any of them.

But they needed the numbers.

They approached the feral clans, the ones that knew how it felt to be cast down, cast out, overlooked and trodden on, and the feral clans met them with open arms. In return for simply being treated like they mattered, like they were equals, they would do and agree to anything.

They weren't equals of course. Some of them were barely vampires, half-fangs created by half-fangs created by half-fangs, the vampirism weak and their powers weaker, their sanity hanging by a knife thread. Not like his Erin and Chloe. Not strong, not beautiful.

Weak.

Expendable.

But he could use them, and use them they did, sending them where they were needed to face Sethius's forces.

Meanwhile, the Slayers had upped their game since the death of the Van Helsings and Sethius's release. Vlad hated to admit it, but that was probably a good thing.

Every time he looked at Chloe he was reminded of why they didn't need a repeat of what happened in Stokely.

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Since he established who was in charge, the Count had been supportive.

As much as he did 'supportive.'

Ingrid warned Vlad that he would almost certainly be plotting something, probably involving marriage, oaths, or political alliances.

It was the first one, because of course it was.

The woman, Adze, was beautiful.

And a princess.

Vlad thought long and hard about adding her to their little family.

In the end he decided against it. He'd never be able to trust her like he could trust Erin and Ingrid and Chloe. She had nothing but poison, lies, and insincerity behind her eyes.

She would destroy their family sooner than add to it, and Vlad couldn't have that.

He couldn't have threats to him and his own.

Adze had to die.

It was as easy as reaching out and snapping her neck.

Really, it was.

The room fell silent.

"Oh dear. What a terrible accident has befallen her," Ingrid drawled. Vlad nodded sagely.

"It was truly a terrible accident."

"It was no accident! You broke her neck!" roared her father. Vlad shrugged and snaked an arm around Erin's waist.

"Truly dreadful."

Ramanga tried to attack him of course. Vlad could easily have retaliated, but Ingrid, who he had been doting on since they met, got there first and drove her knife into the back of his neck and up into his skull.

"Oh dear," said Erin. "A terrible accident has befallen them both."

Chloe nodded. "Truly terrible." She licked her lips. She was hungry. She hadn't eaten tonight because of the part. Vlad nodded in agreement.

"Indeed it has. Does anyone else want to add to the drama tonight?"

The gathered vampires backed away slowly.

"Really? No one? What about you dad? Do you have anything to say about this terrible accident?"

The Count stared at the corpses, which were slowly but surely turning to ash on his floor. "Nothing at all Vlad my boy."

"Oh good. I'm sure something like this won't happen again. You should get someone to clean that up."

"You ever consider it might not be worth keeping him around?" Erin asked as they left. Vlad shrugged. One of the vampires from the hall, smaller than most, followed them out, keeping to the shadows.

"I've considered it."

"And?"

"And he hasn't made himself a big enough threat to justify it yet."

Erin nodded and hummed. "Just a thought."

Ingrid smiled. "Oh, we've had that thought."

Plenty of times.

Their shadow followed them to their room. Ingrid turned and folded her arms over her chest. "Are you going to show your face, or just keeping skulking in the shadows like some creepy stalker?"

The figure stepped out into the light of the torches. They were small and a little more than slender, closer to thin, with thin, pale hands and a hood covering their face.

"And you are?"

She pushed her hood down. Now there was a face Vlad hadn't thought about in years.

"Cousin Olga. How nice to see you again."

"Likewise."

"Can I ask what you're doing creeping about my house like some creepy stalker?"

"Following you."

He looked her over. She really did look thin, and a funny colour as well. Not just vampire-pale, but green-yellowish, like she was sick.

"Is your father here too?"

"Haven't seen him in years. The last I heard he was off terrorising the Ukraine."

"Huh."

"He dragged me along for a bit, but he soon got tired of me."

"So what do you want?"

"The Blood Mirror. I turn sixteen in two weeks."

Ingrid wanted to throw her to the sunlight. Erin wanted to stake her, which would be... ineffective considering she hadn't turned yet. Chloe wanted to drain her dry. They really would have to feed her soon. Vlad told her there was a spare coffin in the room down the hall.

Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your family where you can see them.

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Olga was a much meeker and quieter girl than the evil spoilt brat that they met before. She walked with her head up, but had a quite noticeable limp and backed down in any confrontation. Vlad let her mope around the house for a few days and then started prodding.

It turned out after Boris's death Ivan had gone rampaging across Europe, dragging Olga with him like a lost puppy to work as an indentured servant.

"Oh, if only I'd known!" lamented the Count. "I would have joined him!"

"We were keeping a low profile," Vlad reminded him.

"Anyways, he ditched me in Hungary when he got sick of me slowing him down. I've been staying with some of the feral vampire clans for the past few years, but I'm turning sixteen now. I just need the Blood Mirror, and then I can show my father what I think of him."

The Count laughed. "You, a little girl, beat Ivan? I don't think so!"

Olga snarled. "Watch me!"

The Count snarled back. Ingrid laid a hand on Olga's arm. "He might have a teeny bit of a point. Uncle Ivan is a powerful centuries old vampire. You're a sixteen year old girl."

"Fifteen," Vlad muttered.

Ingrid, Erin and Chloe took Olga off into their room for some girl time, leaving Vlad with Wolfie for company. They played fetch.

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Olga came out of the transformation a little taller, her hair a little darker, and her skin a better colour.

She still had the limp though.

There were some things the change couldn't fix.

Vlad, Ingrid, Erin and Chloe took her for her first hunt. It was good fun, hunting with a sloppy sixteen year old so giddy with her new power she forgot they were meant to be heartless monsters.

"Do you think I could stay?" she asked a few days later. "Not forever. Just for a little bit. It's quite nice having family again."

Even if it was a broken, dysfunctional one.

"We'll see," Vlad said, and tried to ignore the fact there was an extra coffin in Ingrid, Erin and Chloe's room these days.

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They found Ivan in Russia, slaughtering a small village.

"Waste of blood if you ask me," Ingrid said, shaking her head.

"He'd never drink all of this," Erin agreed. Chloe licked her lips. She could probably give it a good go.

"He's a little man who wants to make himself feel powerful," Vlad said, looking at the destruction. Ivan snarled.

"Just who do you think you are?"

Vlad smiled. "I'm the Chosen One. And a waste of blood like this is not on my agenda."

"Well well well. Look at you. Little Vladdy all grown up."

Vlad bared his fangs.

"Although I hear you're not the only Chosen One these days, are you?"

"That fake will be dealt with."

Ingrid and Erin stepped aside to let Olga move past them.

"Do you recognise me?"

"Mm... Did I slaughter your parents last week and drain their blood? No, wait, was that last month? Or maybe last year?"

Olga screamed. Lightning cracked overhead.

"I am your daughter!"

"Oh yes, now I see. You got the family temper Helga."

"Olga!"

"Olga? No, that can't be right, I would never name a daughter of mine Olga. Terrible name. Hmm. Maybe I would..."

She threw a fireball at him.

Vlad could hardly blame her.

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Olga stayed, and struck up an odd sort of friendship with Chloe. Vlad kept a close watch on her, but she mostly seemed to just enjoy having somewhere safe to spend her days.

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They thought about staking the Count even more when a man claiming to be their older brother, their dad's son, and his true son and heir arrived at Garside Grange. Worse, their idiot dad invited him into their lives with open arms.

"We could always stake them both," Ingrid suggested.

"I'm not interested in petty family drama. I've got my family right here in this room, and we are off to visit the High Council."

Erin raised her eyebrows. "We are? When was that decided?"

"Right now. Let's go."

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No one in the High Council questioned his authority after he dusted the one vampire that tried to stop Erin and Chloe following him into the lair. Who did he think he was?

Vlad made sure they all knew who was in charge. Him, and Ingrid, and Erin, and Chloe. In that order. They weren't scared little kids anymore. He was already one of the most powerful vampires in the world, and when he came of age, he would be the most powerful vampire in history.

No one would ever kick them around again.

No one.

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When they got home three weeks later, they found the Count had made Malik legitimate and the Dracula heir.

"How sad. A pathetic last ditch attempt of a power play," Ingrid said.

"Truly pathetic," agreed Erin.

"Very sad," murmured Chloe.

"You lot haven't had to live here and watch him fawn over the moron," said Olga. "It was sickening, really."

"Did you really think either of us would care?" Vlad asked, genuinely surprised. It was the kind of thing they might have card about five years ago, but now they had importance of their own.

They cared a little more when Malik's mother, a crazy, psychopathic, power hungry shapeshifter, showed up to stay causing trouble. Badly.

Oh, she did her best to manipulate things and split them up. Bertrand figured out it was a shapeshifter easily enough, and after talking to the Count they worked out who she was. Elizabetta, the Count's ex-wife.

Sometimes Vlad really did wonder whether or was to much trouble to keep him around.

She poisoned the Count and had the nerve to walk right up to him wearing Ingrid's body. Vlad laughed in her stolen face. They knew each other well enough to tell when something wasn't right. She was too fast for them to kill her here, but on the other side of the Blood Mirror it was child's play. Vlad staked her and her pathetic wimpire excuse for a son. Unfortunately, Renfield had made a cure for his precious Master. That was disappointing.