A Note: Thank you to my reviewer aleera13 and LadyWednesday

Dracula smiled again as he looked around. "Good to be back even if it is to here." He looked around distastefully and glanced back down at Ashling. The poor girl was worn out. He picked her up gently, holding her in his arms like a child.

He walked almost painfully slowly, all the while his muscles ached and his joints creaked. Being dead a long time will do that to someone even if he is a vampire. The girl was light, sickeningly so, and her bones jut through her skin dangerously.

Perhaps his influence had wore on her more than he had thought. The result of putting two consciousnesses in a body was like putting two mice in a small jar; they must compete to survive. Her body had fought the extra inside her head, but was forced to give up the energy for it.

He went towards a couch on the far side of the room and lay her down on the red velvet.. From the window he could see the mountains and the soon to be full moon. A wolf howled or it could have very well been a werewolf. Dracula thought of his past servants and of the one who had killed him.

"Tomorrow I shall have new servants." He said to himself. At the full moon tomorrow he would venture into the woods and rally some werewolves, and other night children, to himself.

The sun was rising, no more than a golden glow still below the horizon, but he knew he should retreat. He turned his back. He was sure that Ashling would sleep until nightfall; to resurrect him with her blood had drained her strength and given it to him. He wouldn't be surprised if she slept through the next night either.

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As Dracula rose from his icy coffin, his ears were alerted to a call.

"Now that is a werewolf's howl." The call reverberated in his ears; it was a call of blood lust, that which animal wolves did not care for. His eyes locked on the window above him, viewed the full moon, as he shifted into his feral form. The glass had been previously shattered allowing him to pass unobstructed.

This path above the forest he had flown many times, searching out victims whether human or animal he didn't care. Although tonight was about rallying forces Dracula would be forced to feed sometime before dawn. Snow was on the ground, and while he saw this he thought offhandedly that Ashling had, had to walk through it. He flew on, ever watchful for a sign of blood or tracks something that would give the werewolf away.

The thing howled again, and another joined it. Dracula followed the sound to his left and saw at least three, if more were not hiding in the shadows, in a clearing looking over a body.

Changing in mid-air, he landed on his feet, bending his knees to absorb the impact. He was out of the wolves' line of sight, in the trees. "This should be no problem," he thought. The wolves were growling at each other and lunging over the corpse at each other.

"No time for introductions." Dracula stepped out of the trees. The wolves barely had time to see him before they were under his thrall.

They blinked dumbly, then ruffed softly to each other. Dracula's grin showed his fangs to which the werewolves took notice. One tried to growl, but was reprimanded with a ringing in his ears as Dracula's hand went up.

"You are all my servants now." he told them as he walked forward. He took not the slightest notice of them, as if daring them to attack. "My whim is yours." He continued. One of the smaller werewolves was the first to begin giving in. It hunkered down and laid its ears against its head. The other two, probably knowing their friend was smarter than they were soon followed suit.

Dracula had reached the edge of the clearing, able to reach out and touch the trees in front of him, he spun to face them. In the same view he took in the three werewolves and a form up in the lower branches of one of the trees behind them.

A bogey it was and quite old looking for it. Bogey's being the monsters who haunt children at night, it was strange to see one in the forest so far away from the town. He seemed but eleven or twelve, dressed all in black clothes far too big for his skinny body. His hair was black the same color as his white less eyes, framed by a round face. He saw Dracula look at him and he smiled showing needle-point teeth, and turning his head sideways.

The vampire raised his hand in an embellished gesture to shake. The bogey was down in an instant, flipping himself off the branch and running to him weaving through the werewolves. It was not every day that a powerful creature offered service to an odd one such as himself.

The bogey took Dracula's gloved hand and kissed it as he marveled at his display with the werewolves.

"Oh, my, sir as scared as I am of the things I'm sayin' you must be very brave to trifle with those beasties." Dracula pulled his hand back not wanting to lose a finger to the bogey's hungry teeth.

"It is easy," He looked down at the boy condescendingly. "They are very stupid things." Dracula spun on his heel waving his hand at his new lackeys.

"Might I ask Count how it is you have returned to power?" The boy trotted just to stay at Dracula's heels.

"What is your name bogey?" Dracula ignored his question and walked.

"Uh, Vay, Sir." He stuttered trying to keep his voice strong to impress his new master.

"Vay? You will see when we get back." Dracula returned to the previous question.

"What?" Vay stopped dead but nearly ran into the count when a werewolf growled at his back.

Onward they walked and for once Dracula did not have to put the werewolves back in line in all the time he had done something like this. The villagers seemed to have run them farther away than they ever had been and they are weak. The Count's thoughts bordered on the wolves meekness as he led them back. How long had I been dead? He wondered just before they hit the only bump in their trip.

Something or someone yelped off in the forest to their right. The werewolves ears perked up, and Vay at his side looked around his teeth bared. Dracula smirked. He would know that voice if it was dieing.

A young man burst out of the trees at a dead run. Just as he was about to run out of sight he fell scrambling for a footing and stumbled toward them. He rushed out, "Help me!" Before hiding at Dracula's back.

Dracula looked on calmly as a small black horse trotted onto the path. It was barely out of its childhood, it had not even grown fully into its mane yet.

"A night mare." The bogey took a step toward its kin. The mare had stopped, huffing in the center of the path. It's eyes were dull gray, proving it blind. "It has no rider," the bogey stepped up to the creature, looking quandaringly at its back. "It has guided itself by smell and hearing alone." Vay touched it but got no adverse affect.

All three of the werewolves lay down a ways beside Dracula as he talked to the man.

"Always in some sort of trouble aren't you Jaret?" Dracula scolded mockingly.

"This one wasn't my fault. I swear." He held up his hands to protest his innocence. Jaret seemed to be about twenty although he was as old as the count. His blond hair fell past his shoulders, and his blue eyes spoke of adventures. Jaret was goblin gifted, it showing as him always getting in tight spots and claws on his fingernails. His immortality was given to him by a sprites blood.

Dracula snapped his fingers at the werewolves and they pushed themselves up. The bogey had successfully pulled himself onto the mare's back and turned her around down the path. Fatigue, as he would soon find out, was the only thing allowing him to do so.

With two more added to the company they all fled before the sunrise

Another Note: Was it good? Bad? Tell me!