So I need to apologise. It's been almost two months since I've updated and I'm not going to try and give you an excuse as to why.
All I am going to do is upload this chapter and try to upload a chapter each monday until this is done. I have written five chapters ahead and have got a decent routine to get each chapter done.
So sorry about the long break - I hope this chapter makes up for it.
"It's hilarious isn't it?" Circling the throne her father was seated in, Ingrid leered. "Without your influence, when he doesn't even remember you, Vlad is exactly the vampire you wanted him to be."
Her words, sharp with venom, caused her father to scowl. "We have no idea what he remembers."
"Hah! I'd say little. You saw him!" Cold, dark, devilish eyes that managed to put a pinch of fear into Ingrid's empty heart. And Erin, glued to his side like an attack dog. "Does that look anything like your son to you?" She wondered what the slayer-turned-vampire's motives were. Would she betray Vlad? Or was she afraid? "Because I don't think it does."
From the moment Vlad and his smirk had stepped into her field of view she'd felt threatened. Anything that could survive all that he had was a force to be reckoned with. And as he no longer had a weakness for family…
She'd have to watch her back, find his weakness, and get him back under her thumb.
But he could do things she hadn't expected. He could hear.
Guided by a smaller hand, Mir's fingers traced the frail sheets of newspaper pinned to the wall. It left a dusty film across the pads of his fingers. Headlines jumped out at him but held no real meaning and names flew through his head but were gone before he realised he knew them.
He turned back to face Erin.
"Why am I here..." The vampiress tilted her head to the side at his question, eyes that reminded him of a murky pond staring into him. It had only become daunting now to think that she knew who he'd been. "I don't care about these people." Vlad had. But he wasn't Vlad. "I don't care about this life."
She reached out to him, finally. Her porcelain hand barely brushed his arm as he spun on his heel.
Paper tore and drawing pins fell. The newspaper clippings crunched under his hand. He ripped every single article down.
Why did he even decide to come back here? This wasn't his life – and judging by the people he'd met so far – he didn't even want it to be.
"Mir," Erin snatched his arm as he went back in for another round of destruction. "Mir, stop!"
He snarled at her. "Why?" His eyes briefly flashed red. "What is really in this life for me?"
"But when you remember-"
"-when?" He chuckled dryly. "You think I'll remember considering how it happened?"
"What?
Mir brushed aside his black fringe and Erin's eyes flicked to an area on his forehead. "I can't see it. But I know it's a scar and considering your reaction to it – I'd say you hadn't seen it before."
Erin suddenly looked confused. "I..." She coughed. "I need to go."
He watched her run out of the room. There was something about their bond that was affecting her. Not on his end but there was definitely something. The only way to describe it was that Erin, the woman who hated him enough to try and kill him on three separate occasions over the space of a week, was becoming kind to him.
Hm.
Then he turned back to the board of empty memories. He didn't want Vlad back. So he might as well make this life his own.
"Is Vladimir still powerless?" Now that Count Dracula had recovered from the miraculous return of his dead son the tactical brain had kicked in.
Both Ingrid and the Count had experienced Vlad without his inhibitions.
Neither of them wanted it repeated.
The eldest Dracula child paced the throne room. "He must have survived somehow."
"The slayers claimed responsibility for his death. They at least have eyes. They couldn't have got that wrong."
"But Vlad does have that metal skeleton now…" The memory of a stake exploding in her hands surfaced.
The Count sat upright in his throne. "It will be draining our powers if he still has it." He glanced in the direction of Vlad's room as Ingrid was filled with a sense of satisfaction. Her father's expression was one of suspicion and distaste.
Hah, who's the favoured child now…
"We could contact the council..."
"You know they'll execute us." Ingrid rolled her eyes but then smiled, as she thought of something. "I know who we can contact." Someone who would want Vlad dead. Someone who's reputation hinged on Vlad staying dead. Someone who hated Vlad more than anyone.
Erin crouched down in the garage as she saw Ingrid strut across the courtyard. She wasn't in the mood for an altercation with the older vampire just yet. The vampire didn't even glance in her direction. She just took off into the dark sky with a smirk.
She was probably plotting something.
The half-fang couldn't think about the now.
Why had she said 'when'? Vlad's memories were the last thing she wanted. If Vlad remembered then she'd kill him. And she didn't know how to do that.
And she wanted Mir to stay.
This is all wrong! Something inside her was screaming. But… She liked this wrong.
Erin shuffled into the corner more. All tough and deadly in her leather garb with legs of jelly and a tremble in her lip.
Mir had his fangs in her heart, and she had no idea what to do.
She'd done the loving the Chosen One thing already, and it could only end in death.