The following chapters were the product of a combination of too much opera, several period dramas, many sleepless nights, and a substantial amount of pomegranate juice (I can't really explain that last one). The original draft of this chapter was well over 20 pages in length and written almost two months ago. Managed to crank it out in a couple hours and had to sit on it for some time after before returning to do revisions. Ended up breaking it up into two-ish chapters and spent the last three weeks doing revisions.

As always, forgive the errors and rustiness you will undoubtedly find. I'll be the first to admit that this is nowhere near perfect, but there are definitely bits and pieces of this and the following chapter that I've grown emotionally attached to.

The musical influences for this chapter were absurd and I've done my best to include all of them. I also created a masquerade playlist - which I had way too much fun creating. Sadly, a good handful of the songs I included either aren't on YouTube or the version I wanted isn't there, but I tried to include them anyway so you have an idea. My original playlist is much longer, but the songs posted below are the ones I feel are worth mentioning. And yes, I left Hayley Westenra's "Dark Waltz" out of the playlist on purpose because I wanted to focus on strictly instrumental music (as soon as someone creates such a version, I'll definitely include it).

Chapter 8: The Prelude

The bedroom grew darker as the sun continued to set. The rest of the house was slowly beginning to wake, but all through the day, Afina had lied silent and motionless on top of her bed, wide-awake and still dressed in her underthings, having never fully undressed that morning as she had become too distracted listening to the whispered conversations of the Count. She could hear him now in the room down the hall in the throes of passion with the woman who had joined him in his chambers before the dawn earlier in the day, and now their sighs and groans of delirious ecstasy had been perceived by her very acute hearing.

The woman was Zsófia – Nicolæ's Zsófia. When the Count had assured Afina that he would take care of the woman, she had anticipated a seduction, but had no idea how quickly it would transpire. Either the woman had been an easy conquest, or he really was that good. Afina could recall the feigned surprise in the Count's voice when the woman had snuck into his chambers; his moment of hesitation when she had flung herself into his arms.

It mostly amused Afina, Zsófia's eagerness to detach herself from Nicolæ. The man had proven to be a disappointment to the female and she was eager to become an addition to Count Dracula's long list of successful conquests – as if it were some kind of honor. But upon an entire day's worth of contemplation, Afina had become aware of the sliver of jealousy buried deep in her heart – nothing substantial; just a hair, but a hair nonetheless.

It hadn't been the first time she had witnessed Vlad with another woman, and she knew it would not be the last time she would find him thus. It was in his nature. He was a man, after all, and a voracious lover. But over their last year together, his frivolity had started to bother her in a way that surprised Afina. She was physically attracted to him – that much had been evident upon their first meeting when she had still been human; but it had never been anything beyond that.

But now, for the first time ever, she was second guessing herself.

He had devoted an entire year to her, preparing her for what was coming this evening, but in an unanticipated way it had become so much more than that. There was a bond between them, something she could not ignore or suppress, no matter how hard she tried. She had noticed the pull toward him when they had first met, but that pull was so much stronger now. She knew his conquests meant nothing; that this fling with Zsófia meant nothing to either party – all were very aware of how he made his way through women in a way that would make the likes of Casanova, Don Juan, and even the Marquis de Sade look like amateurs.

Where those women really unbothered by that fact? Afina couldn't seem to figure out if it was the sexual escapades that bothered her, or perhaps it was the symbolic sense of closeness that came with that level of intimacy – and how all of it meant nothing to him. Even though he had drilled into her the vital need to dispel all sense of morality and virtue; that had been the hardest lesson of all – one she was still in the process of learning and relearning. Try as she might, Afina could never truly lose herself to her new nature – as tempting as that option was. She was too disciplined, too deeply rooted in how she had been brought up, and too wise to act contrary to what she knew from personal experience – that all actions had consequences. Perhaps it would become easier over time, but even after a year, with the strong attraction she felt towards Count Dracula, she had resolved never to act on those natural instincts unless it meant something.

Not that it ever would.

The Count had kept his word so far. He had made no real advances toward her – not once in the entire year they were together. They would flirt, but it was never anything more than that. He had been an excellent teacher, professional, yet personable. He had treated her like an equal, just as he had promised, and that sense of equality had only strengthened the bond that already existed between them. It had been enough for Afina in the past – why was that suddenly changing? Why the sudden need for something more, and from him of all people?

Perhaps it was because some small and secret part of her felt more for him than affection, and because he had come to mean so much to her, maybe that secret part of her hoped he felt the same. It was ridiculous of course – she knew that the moment she thought it. Count Dracula – fall in love with her? The notion was absurd. She knew it, but she still wanted it. And she'd never admit that to herself, aloud or otherwise. It was a dangerous mode of thought, one she struggled to avoid.

Love would ruin everything.

As the sun slipped behind the horizon, the remnants of light retreating behind the mountains as the darkness spread through the sky, she finally moved, making her way over to the gramophone Agnar had lent her. The record that soon began to play was selections from Verdi's La Trovatore – specifically the final song – the quartet Prima che d'altri vivere. The music drowned out any other noise that she would have otherwise heard, filling her with an elegant kind of melancholy, still torn between her warring halves.

Prima che d'altri vivere io volli tua morir! – Rather than live as another's, I want to die yours!

The soprano's voice haunted Afina as she stood by the window, watching the conclusion of the sunset. So engrossed in the music and in her own conflicting thoughts, she never heard Andrei enter her room until he called her name at the closing of the song.

She excused herself, apologizing for her moment of distraction and her indecency of dress, but he merely smiled, assuring her that it was no bother, and he offered her a dressing gown.

"You are very lovely creature, Afina," he commented as she pulled the robe on. She smiled that calculatingly shy smile of hers and tied off the sash, thanking him for the compliment. "You wished to see me?"

"I did. Thank you for being so punctual. I wished to discuss something with you before the rest of the house awoke." She turned the music back on to drown out their conversation so they could not be overheard. "I have not been fully honest with you and your family, Andrei," she began, taking a seat by the fireplace and motioning for him to take the chair opposite her. "I lied to you when I said I could not remember who was it that killed me."

"So you do remember after all?"

"Yes."

"I have not been so fully honest with you, either," he added. "It took me a while, but when I noticed how distant Nicolæ had become after your arrival two days ago, I realized who you were."

"Then you realize what my connection to Nicolæ is? Why I am here?"

"I do. And as sorry as I am for that night, that my friend disobeyed the Count, I cannot condone your revenge."

"Neither can your father," she noted. "But the situation has changed."

"How so?"

"I never really wanted to kill Nicolæ," she lied with expertise. "I am naturally angry for what he did, but I forgive him for murdering me. What I truly wanted was revenge for the sake of my deceased husband. Nicolæ's use of my wounded husband as bait was low, even if it is in the nature of a vampire to be cruel and sadistic, especially when in the throes of the hunt. And when the Count had informed me that your excellent father did not condone my revenge, I was prepared to let it go, as much as Nicolæ's actions disturbed me."

"I feel like there should be a 'but' at the end of that sentence," Andrei pointed out with an uncomfortable smile.

"You're right, there is." She paused for dramatic effect, making it appear like she was struggling with something internally before continuing. "Andrei, I hesitate to tell you this. I know Nicolæ is your friend, and if it was anyone else, I would stay out of this and mind my own business, but you and your family have been so kind to me these last few days. Your father is an excellent man, and your mother has been such a gracious hostess. And you and your sister have become such dear friends to me, I – I cannot stay silent. Not when you're in danger."

"In danger?"

"I stumbled upon these last night. They were hidden in a book I had noticed Nicolæ reading in your library. I was curious to see what book he had been reading and upon opening it…" She revealed a small handful of letters from a box on the small table beside her chair and she handed them to Andrei. "The seal belongs to the Holy Order," she explained. "The letters are all addressed to Nicolæ. Apparently he feels remorse for his existence as a vampire and in hope of salvation, he had agreed to destroy an entire vampire family in the name of God in exchange for forgiveness from the church. That family… is yours."

Andrei read the letters in absolute silence and Afina watched him closely as his expression changed from doubt to surprise, to disappointment, and then to anger.

"How do I know these aren't forged?" he finally asked her.

"You don't," she answered truthfully. "But I give you my word that if they are, it was not by my hand." That much was true. The forged letters from the Count that she had originally planned on using were now ash in the fireplace. When she had discovered legitimate and honest proof of Nicolæ's treachery, she had been secretly relieved that she wouldn't have to lie in order to have her revenge. "Before I died, I worked with the Order," she confided suddenly. "I know that seal anywhere, the handwriting as well. It may be signed by Cardinal Jinette, but it was written by his scribe, a friar. If we had more time, I could give you more evidence, but we don't have that luxury."

"Yes, I see in this most recent letter that Nicolæ plans to act out tonight at the ball by murdering my family, starting with my sister, Dorina."

"We cannot let that happen, Andrei," she insisted, reaching forward and placing her hand on his in an urgency that was almost real. "Let me help. I want revenge on this man more than you could possibly imagine. I loved my husband. I loved him, despite his faults, despite our struggles. Nicolæ killed me, taking the chance of me coming back from the dead as a vampire. He knew I'd smell blood from miles away. He knew Henric had been injured, knew that I would find him. He knew that I wouldn't be able to resist feeding on him. I killed him, Andrei. I killed my husband. I not only fed on him, I destroyed him. His blood is still on my hands and his ghost haunts me. That was Nicolæ's doing, his design. He took everything from me."

"And now he wants to take everything from my family," Andrei whispered in disappointment. "My own friend. I was the one who tried to pull him off of you. I told him to leave you be, but he wouldn't listen. I- I had no idea that he had done that to your husband, Afina. You must know that."

"Then prove it to me," she insisted. "Give me this chance to avenge not only my husband, but the family he wants to take from you."

Andrei stood.

There was a fury in his eyes, but his face was all calm.

"Do whatever you want to him," Andrei said in hushed tones. "But you must promise me one thing."

"Anything, my Lord," she said with a well-practiced bow of her head in a very convincing act of submission.

"Make it hurt."

"Oh, I assure you, I shall," she said, standing before him. "But it will require some assistance…"

The two spoke at length for nearly a half hour before Andrei excused himself from the room, eager to inform his sister, Dorina, of the plan and all that had transpired. As she stood in her doorway, watching Andrei quickly make his way down the hall, Zsófia was just exiting the Count's chambers. Vlad and Afina made eye contact for the briefest of moments. They said nothing, but the look was enough to assure both that the plan was in motion.

...

The music coming from the orchestra swelled with a passion that moved every guest. The ballroom glittered in a decadence that could easily take one's breath away. On the dance floor was a sea of bodies, all moving to the rhythm of a waltz. Each pairing moved with unnatural grace; each step perfection, each twirl captivating, the gowns and tuxes, the costumes and masks, all creating a vibrant wave of color that seemed to bleed in fluid swirls, like the night sky in Van Gogh's "Starry Night."

Vlad stood alone on the edge of the room, watching with a deep amusement as Zsófia abandoned Nicolæ to dance with Lord Craven, not even attempting to hide her disinterest in her former flame. He had done his job and had done it exceptionally well, if he did say so himself. Convincing Zsófia that she deserved infinitely better than Nicolæ was a much simpler task than he had anticipated. She barely put up any kind of resistance to the notion and in his "liberating" her, she had become so eager to try out as many men as she possibly could to see what she had been missing out on. The fact that her first choice was Lucas Craven made the Count want to burst out laughing.

Zsófia was so eager and Craven so depraved, the two almost seemed destined for one another. A job well done, indeed.

He took another scan about the room, removing his mask momentarily in an effort to see better. There was still no sign of Afina, or even Andrei and Dorina. If he had interpreted what he had seen earlier this evening, he knew Afina had done her job. He almost couldn't believe that she had managed to "sell" those forged letters from the Order. He couldn't wait to hear how she had done it. But what was taking her so long?

"You seem to be looking for someone, Count," a familiar voice said from behind. He turned to see a woman dressed in a luscious scarlet gown. Her hair was a light brown, pulled up in an elegant manner, exposing her long, flawless neck. The woman's mask was on a stick and she moved it away from her face, revealing her identity.

"Elizabeth Nouveau. I was wondering when you'd arrive," he exclaimed with an ample amount of charm and he took her offered hand and pressed a lingering kiss on her knuckles before tendering running his thumb over the top of her hand. "You look positively sinful," he husked and he watched as the woman blushed just slightly.

"Red has always looked best on me," she replied with a wicked smile. "How are you, Vladislaus? It's been an age!"

"It has, hasn't it?"

"I never did get the opportunity to express my condolences for your loss," she began, taking his arm, not even waiting for him to offer it to her, and the two began to circle the room. "You must be so lonely."

"Quite the contrary, I assure you."

"Oh? Now that is a surprise. No one has seen you in over five years!"

"No one of your acquaintance."

"Does anyone else really matter?" she said with a laugh. "Lucas was telling me about that exquisite little pet of yours. He's quite taken with her. Is that who he's dancing with now?"

"No. That is Zsófia, a guest of Agnar's."

Miss Nouveau licked her lips.

"She looks delicious. Such an eager little thing. Have you had her?"

"Yes."

"Recently?"

"Just a few hours ago."

"And?"

"I'd recommend having Craven warm her up first before you try anything."

"Darling, that won't be necessary. I haven't met a single man or woman alive that could say 'no' to me. Not even you."

"Actually, my dear, where you and I are concerned, it was the other way around," he corrected, pulling her into a dance. "In fact, if I recall correctly, it was I who liberated you."

"It was, wasn't it?" she said with a reminiscent sigh. "Where was that?"

"Venice 1567. I believe I introduced you to…"

"Veronica Franco. That's right! What a summer that was. The things you did to me."

"Seems I've created a monster," he said with a dark chuckle.

The two continued to reminisce until the song ended. He then escorted her over to Craven.

"But I see I have lost you once again," he heard Elizabeth say. "You are very distracted this evening, Count."

"Not distracted. Just wondering what's keeping her," he said mostly to himself.

"Is Afina not down yet?" Craven inquired, joining in on the conversation.

"I have yet to meet this increasingly mysterious Afina," Elizabeth explained with a hint of jealous perturbation in her voice as she took Craven's arm. "And I've never seen you so distracted, Vladislaus. I swear, the entire time we danced, my dear, his eyes were always flashing back to the stairs." The two began to laugh but with a single look from the Count, that laughter quickly died in their throats and their expressions tensed with apprehension. With a dangerous look in his eyes and an evident shortness of temper, Dracula excused himself and proceeded to circle the room again.

He was growing impatient. She should have been down here by now. What was taking so long? He was becoming weary of the idle conversations, the forced civility, and the sense of obligation he was feeling from many of Agnar's guests. There was a time when all of them would have cowered at his feet, when he had been treated with the utmost respect and cordiality, when the noblest of them would have trembled in fear and reverence. Now… he was just one of them.

No, not even that.

He was beneath them. They had managed to "out-live" him, in a sense. And in the Count's mind, it was because of him that many of their friends, his entire bloodline, had been destroyed. With every passing dance, the Count felt more and more like some kind of pariah and it unsettled him greatly.

He knew who his true "friends" were – they were the ones that visited him shortly after his resurrection and only a small handful of the faces in this sea of undead were truly loyal. The rest of them – his blood boiled at the thought. Their insolence, their sense of disregard for him, him! The most notorious of vampires! The most powerful man on earth!

They would regret this night, the night they brushed him off and feigned civility.

He would have his vengeance.

He would reclaim his power, that same power he had had six years ago, and more so. He would give them the ruler their wretched existences deserved. Every knee would bow. Every tongue would sing his praises. If tonight went according to plan, he would be well on his way to becoming not just their king, but their God. And the Order would be helpless to stop him.

He swore it in that instance, alone, yet surrounded by a couple hundred oblivious vampires. He would make them pay for their lack of true allegiance, the allegiance he felt was his right to have. His thoughts immediately turned to Afina and the last night of her mortal life, the things she said to him. She – as a mere human, understood who he was, what he was. She had revered him. In many ways, in death she still did revere him.

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of her. She was so loyal, obedient without being a doormat. She was the only woman he could think of that he had ever viewed as an equal – and it wasn't just because he had sworn to treat her like one. She had earned it in the last year. In small ways, she had proven herself to him, time and time again. She was going to prove herself to him once more this evening – he could feel it in his bones.

He suddenly felt a quickening in his blood as he noted her presence in the room. As if his eyes knew exactly where to go, he turned his head to look behind him, and at the top of the stairs stood Afina – his bellator.

She was dressed in a stunning strapless gown. The bodice was black, with intricate gold designs embroidered into the material and the skirted portion was made of several layers of black feathered tulle that flowed elegantly down to the floor, covering her feet. Her hair was pulled back and up, the mass of curls pinned and twisted, leaving small wisps of hair to caress her cheek and the side of her neck in a way that was almost tantalizing. Her mask was a piece of black lace that was simple and understated, but the way she wore it made her look dark and mysterious.

She was on Andrei's left arm, and the woman on his right appeared to be Dorina, who was in a gorgeous midnight blue ball gown, embellished with silver thread designs and encrusted in diamonds. She almost looked like the night sky. Both women looked magnificent on Andrei's arms – the man himself dressed to perfection, and he escorted both ladies down the stairs with a grace that was almost unsettling.

The three met Count Dracula at the bottom of the stairs, the siblings bowing deeply in greeting before Afina took his arm and released Andrei's. Thoroughly pleased by the sincere sense of respect and admiration they felt for him, Dracula allowed himself to smile.

"Forgive us for our tardiness in delivering your companion," Andrei began. "We wanted to make sure that everything was in place."

From the look Afina gave the Count, it was clear to Dracula that the siblings were in on the plan and this pleased him immensely.

"It is quite alright. She was worth the wait," he said, not looking to see his ward's reaction. He offered his hand to Dorina, who accepted the advance, and he kissed her hand sweetly. "My dear Dorina, you look positively superb."

The lady blushed behind her mask and bowed her head in acknowledgment.

"Now, if you two will excuse me," Andrei interrupted gently, "I'm going to dance with my sister before all the men in Budapest monopolize her for the evening." The two then made their way onto the dance floor and were soon lost in the sea of dancers. After watching them for a moment or two, Dracula finally turned to Afina.

"Shall we?" he inquired, offering his hand to her. She nodded and took his hand, surrendering to the music and allowing him to pull her into the dance.

Afina drowned in the music, her senses overcome with it all – the decadence of the ball, the sea of swirling figures around her, all dressed in dark colors. And for the briefest of moments, she lost herself in the arms of the Count as he held her close, leading her through that fast-paced dance with an expertise that – despite their many lessons – still took her breath away. She was almost embarrassed at how captivated she was by him – in his black and gold costume and cape, his dark blue eyes fixed on her and her alone as they danced. It was like a dream – a fantastical, romantic dream that she knew was clichéd and even mildly ridiculous, but she didn't care.

The anticipation of what was to come was almost too much to bear and the fact that she was in the arms of the man who had made it all possible left her feeling heady in the best way possible. Her months of agonizing practice was also paying off. She was able to keep up with his quick and precise movements with relative ease, her lines utter perfection. She was so proud of herself, pleased that she was no longer stepping on his feet or counting the rhythm in her head. She didn't need to – she felt the music, the quickness of the strings, a dance that seemed to go on forever. She was the perfect dancing partner for him. Anyone could see that.

"I assume everything is under control," he finally said, breaking the silence between them.

"It is."

"How did you sell it?"

"I didn't need to. I found proof of my own," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yes. It would appear he's a traitor after all," Afina explained, referring to Nicolæ. She leaned in close. "Nicolæ is in league with the Order, as you had suspected. In exchange for a full pardon from the church, he's agreed to kill Agnar and his family before the night is out," she whispered in his ear, her lips occasionally brushing against the lobe on accident as they moved. The sensation of her lips coming in contact with his skin sent a strong wave of pleasure through him, one he desperately tried to hide. She was so close to him, her lovely female form pressed against him, the scent of her perfumed skin and hair overwhelming him in a way that was deliciously dangerous. It took everything in him to remain focused.

"And you told Andrei?" he asked in an almost heady sigh. He prayed Afina hadn't noticed.

"I showed him the letters I found. He's told Dorina. They're going to help me lure Nicolæ away from the masque and I'll take care of him in a dungeon below."

"You'll take care of him?" Dracula inquired. "I'm surprised Andrei agreed to those terms."

"He knows what Nicolæ is to me. Besides, I can be very persuasive. You taught me that."

"Yes I did," he said with a wicked grin as she pulled away so they could dance normally again. "How will you do it?"

"Slowly."

The way she said the word sent his skin crawling as the wickedest thoughts danced around in his mind like a scarlet silk scarf smoothing sensually over one's skin.

"I would love to watch you work," he suddenly confessed unexpectedly. The admission took them both a bit by surprise, but not in an unpleasant way.

"Would you really?" she asked before they switched partners with another couple. When she was back in his arms, he pulled her close to him and looked directly into her eyes.

"Yes."

Afina felt electricity pass through her body at the feeling of his hand on her back, half of his hand resting on her skin. He spun her around once about half-way and lingered behind her for several long moments. The skin on her neck and shoulders crawled as she felt his fingertips graze just slightly along that line that led from one shoulder to the other before he resumed the position in front of her. She couldn't decide if it was the music, this city, or just being around other vampires that seemed to awaken this sexual longing in her, but it was becoming quite the task to master it, especially with the way he was looking at her. The dance soon ended and she was almost sorry that it had. Interrupting the spell between them, Afina managed to break his gaze as she turned with the others to applaud the orchestra.

"Come," she heard the Count whisper in her ear. "There is someone I think you would like to meet."

She took his offered arm and allowed him to lead her off the dance floor and over to a man dressed in a black tux with a beautifully embroidered black and red waistcoat beneath the jacket. His hair – at least in his youth – had probably been a dark blonde, perhaps light brown, but the luster of the color was dulled slightly by the gray highlights of age. His eye-lashes were very light, making it appear from a distance that he had none at all, but she liked the look of his face. It was strong and full of authority, with a softness of expression that she admired. The stranger was watching her closely as they approached and that gaze of his only left her when the Count spoke.

"Good evening, Lucian."

"Vladislaus, my old friend," the man replied with a smile and he bowed his head before offering his hand, which the Count shook. "It is always a pleasure to see you. How are you this evening? I'm delighted to see you have finally emerged from the mountains to grace us with your presence."

"I noticed Dragoş could not make it here this evening."

"Yes. You know how he feels about Agnar's gatherings," Lucian explained, glancing over at Afina briefly before returning his attention to the Count. "He always preferred your parties, actually. Commanded that if I saw you again to persuade you to host the All Hallow's Eve ball in a couple of months, like you used to." He turned to Afina. "Nothing compares. The last ball I attended before that vampire hunter showed up six years ago was one the Count put on – a summer solstice gathering. It was exquisite. He invited French nobility to the masquerade for his guests to hunt – as a game. Incredibly macabre and clever. It was the subject of much gossip for months after!"

"Did you really?" Afina asked Dracula. "You invited mortals to a vampire gathering?"

"He always did," Lucian clarified. "It was quite controversial and always a huge success amongst the guests. The blood was always fresh and high quality."

"Perhaps I'll have to throw another party."

"Yes! To celebrate your return," and he raised his glass of blood in the air to toast the notion. "The vampires have grown weak and spoilt since your disappearance from society. I've always said that you were the greatest thing to ever happen to our species, Vladislaus. I hope you know that you will always have my support and the support of the Áki bloodline."

"I am grateful to you, old friend," Vlad replied, truly moved by his loyalty. Afina had also been impressed by it. "I'd like to introduce you to someone that may be of interest to you, as well as Dragoş and the remaining Áki line. May I present to you Afina– the blood daughter of the late Alrik, brother of Dragoş."

Lucian's expression was one of disbelief.

"Are you certain?" he asked the Count. When Dracula confirmed, Lucian bowed deeply to Afina, an action that took her and several onlookers by surprise. "My lady," he said, kissing her hand with a moving amount of reverence. He held that hand in both of his for several long moments and Afina watched as this strong and charming man struggled to compose himself. "I thought I recognized you. You look so much like your father, my dear." He quickly turned to Dracula. "How on earth did you find her?"

"I found him, actually," Afina explained.

"Of course you did. Alrik and Vlad were always the closest of friends. I had heard that he had fathered a damphir, but the Holy Order is usually very good about killing us off before we have the chance to reach adulthood."

"Were you a damphir too?"

"I was. Your father was the one that saved me from the order and turned me into a vampire, over seven-hundred years ago. He was also my mentor and dearest friend for the many years after. I was deeply saddened to hear of his death. He was the best of men. I wish you could have known him."

"As do I."

"I don't know how much you know about your lineage, child, but you come from a long, prestigious line of Nordic kings, queens, warriors. Your ancestry is most impressive. Your mother had French and Spanish blood, am I correct?"

"Yes, my grandfather was French and my grandmother was Spanish, both lines with noble blood."

"And what excellent blood you must have," he pointed out. "Yes, I can see your mother's grace in you. I had the opportunity to meet Emelina when she and your father were in Italy together. She was an exquisite creature. You have much of her in you as well."

"You flatter me, sir."

"I'm not one for flattery, Afina. I only speak the truth," he assured her.

Lucian was still holding Afina's hand in both of his, as though he were fearful to let her go. He shook her hand once, smiling graciously before kissing it one last time, and then finally releasing her.

"Dragoş, your uncle, will be so pleased to hear that his niece lives. He was devastated by the death of your father and to know that a part of him still lives in you – he will be beyond words. I must tell him immediately. How long will you be in Budapest?"

"A couple of weeks at the very least," Vlad replied. "If we go elsewhere, we'll be certain to send word to you immediately."

"I would greatly appreciate that. If you'll excuse me, I must go to him and tell him the news myself. It was a pleasure meeting you, Afina." He bowed deeply and then shook the Count's hand before excusing himself. Afina watched Lucian exit the room and a strange sense of weightlessness overcame her. She had a family – yes, they were easily several centuries older, but she had a family. The idea moved her unexpectedly and she found herself gripping the Count's arm tightly so she wouldn't collapse from the shock.

"Are you alright?" Dracula asked her.

"I am," she answered sincerely, smiling sweetly at him, suddenly so grateful that she could say that so truthfully and for the first time in what felt like an age. She took his hand suddenly and kissed his open palm with a fervor and reverence that took him aback. The smile on her face was one he had never seen before and he had been the one to put it there. She was positively radiant and he could feel the ice in his veins melting. She gently touched the side of his face and continued to smile. "Thank you," she whispered. The sincerity in her voice moved him and it left him speechless for several seconds.

He wasn't entirely certain how to react; no one had ever been so genuinely sincere or grateful to him before.

"For introducing you to Lucian? You're welcome – but if you're going to start behaving like this every time I introduce you to a family member, we're going to have to have a talk," he teased. "I can't wait to see how you react when you meet Dragoş."

"I may have to kiss you when that happens," she laughed. Before he could offer a witty and suggestive comeback, Andrei suddenly caught their attention from across the ballroom. He motioned to the stairs and Vlad and Afina turned to see Dorina leading Nicolæ toward the exit.

The time had come.

"I guess that will have to wait then," he replied. Afina's expression had grown serious as she continued to watch Nicolæ, her eyes not leaving him for a single moment. Dracula stood behind her, holding her arms in his hands his face resting gently beside her own as both of them watched the unsuspecting Nicolæ. Dorina was doing an exceptional job flirting with him, using her feminine wiles to ease him into a false sense of security. Afina's eyes had started to glow that electrified blue and Dracula could see the tips of her fangs peaking behind her rouged lips. She was all hunter now, as a year-long's lust for revenge was finally allowed its release. Still holding her upper arms in his hands, he kissed her bare shoulder gently before whispering in her ear.

"Make me proud."

Musical Influences:
[1] Prima che d'altri vivere, performed by Iano Tamar, Carl Tanner, Zeljko Lučić, and Marianne Cornetti, "Verdi – Il Trovatore"
[2] Grande Masquerade, by Nox Arcana, "Transylvania"

Masquerade Playlist (link to YouTube playlist on my profile page - I had way too much fun creating this and continue to hunt for and add new music constantly. Here's where it's at thus far):
Ball Fanfare, by Alan Silvestri, "Van Helsing (Complete Original Motion Picture Score)"
Missing Letters, by Two Steps From Hell, "Illumina"
Dance for Me Wallis, by Abel Korzeniowski, "W.E." OST
Devi's Waltz, by Bob & Barn, "Primal" game score
The Brides, by Wojciech Kilar, "Bram Stoker's Dracula" OST
All Hallow's Eve Ball, by Alan Silvestri, "Van Helsing" OST
Van Helsing Theme, by Tom Zehnder, "Van Helsing" game score (*)
Waltz of the Willows, by Two Steps From Hell, "The Devil Wears Nada"
Danse Macabre, performed by Angèle Dubeau & La Pietà, "Infernal Violins"
Beautiful, by Apocalyptica, "7th Symphony"
Keep Your Wig On, by James Shearman & Nick Ingman, "Mansfield Park" OST
Vito's Waltz, by Nino Rota, performed by New 101 Strings Orchestra, "Strictly Ballroom Series: Strictly Slow Waltz"
Misa No Uta (Orchestral Version), by Hirano Yoshihisa, "Death Note III" OST
Minuet from "Water Music", G.F. Handel, performed by Four Voices String Quartet, "Lifescapes: Relaxing Classical"
Waltz No. 2, performed by André Rieu, "Valses"
Vienna Blood Waltz, Op. 354, performed by André Rieu, "Voices of Spring"
Waltz, Masquerade, composed by Adam Khachaturian
Romanian Folkdances: Jocul cu bâtá, performed by Angèle Dubeau & La Pietà, "Let's Dance" (*)
Santiago's Watlz, by Elliot Goldenthal, "Interview With A Vampire" OST
Les Beautés Du Diable, performed by Angèle Dubeau & La Pietà, "Infernal Violins"
Hungarian Song and Dance, performed by Zoltan and His Gypsy Ensemble, "Gypsy Music from Hungary and Romania" (*)
Dark Eyes, performed by Calvin Dyck, "The Dancing Violin" (*)
The Chairman's Waltz, by John Williams, Yo-Yo Ma, and Itzhak Perlman, "Memoirs Of A Geisha" OST
Swan Lake, Ballet Suit, Op. 20: Waltz, performed by North German Symphony Orchestra, "The 99 Most Essential Tchaikovsky Masterpieces"
German Dance No. 10 in D Major, by The Isobel Griffiths Ensemble, "The Duchess" OST
Symphony No. 7 in A Major, Op. 92: II. Allegretto (excerpt), London Symphony Orchestra & Sir George Solti, "Immortal Beloved (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack)"
Coronation Waltz, performed by the Mancini Pops Orchestra, "The Ballroom Mix 3" (*)
Love Dance, by Cirque Du Soleil, "Ká"

(*) not included in YouTube playlist