Three years had passed and Sarah was nine and a quarter years old and very proud of that quarter. It meant she was one quarter older than Elijah Stowenn and she loved being one quarter older than Eliah Stowenn. He called her a baby and made fun of her braids and she absolutely hated him for it. When he found out she still slept with a stuffed bear, he laughed at her and called her names until Mariah Reeds punched him in the nose. Maria Reeds was Sarah's greatest friend.

It had been Maria that told her about the vampires. Sarah had not known what a vampire was, but Maria's father was very studied in them. He had books and books about them. Sarah had tried to read one once but found them very boring so Maria and her father explained it all to her. They were vampires, those people in the castle. They were immortal creatures that fed upon blood to live. They could kill, but did not always, and had guarded their village for centuries. They were not evil, their vampires, but not something to be trifled with either.

Sarah understood now why her mama had been so cross. Many people, Maria's father had explained, were scared of the vampires. Count Von Krolock and his brood were more civilized than most, but they were still fierce hunters. Mama had thought that Papa and Sarah had upset them with their visit but they had not. The Count likes me, Sarah had told Maria in confidence. She told Maria about the bear and the next day Elijah Stowenn had known about it. I only told Kaitlin, Maria had explained. Kaitlin told Elijah.

Sarah had been very mad about it until Maria punched Elijah in the face. Only a true friend would do such a thing.

Things had not changed much for Sarah in the three and quarter years since she visited the castle. Nothing was at all peculiar or even remotely strange. She kept no secrets from her parents, save for her biggest secret of all. The bear was tucked away in her drawer every morning and laid in Sarah's bed with her when she went to sleep. Eventually, Mama had relented in her protective measure and the garlic garland went away. The cross was hung above the window though, but it was out of the way and Sarah forgot about it. She had not seen The Count since that day when she was six.

Until after school one day when Sarah was nine and a quarter, she and her friends decided to play hide and seek. It was snowy and cold, but it was always snowy and cold, so they saw no harm in it. Sarah was determined to win. Sarah never won at races or wrestling, but she was certain she could be a good hider. No one would find her and she would win. She would win and she'd watch Elijah's stupid face fall as she did. Elijah always teased her relentlessly. He'd call her a baby or whiny and then laugh while she cried. Sarah would not cry today. Sarah would win.

The best spot was hers as she found a thicket of trees to tuck inside. From the distance, she heard Kaitlin announce her search and Sarah did her best not to giggle. They won't find me, Sarah thought proudly. I am the greatest hider of them all. Maria was caught first, then Elijah, and then some of the other boys. No one found Sarah. For what felt like ages they searched, but no one could find Sarah. Her hiding spot had been the best. She had won.

It had grown colder. The snow was coming down harder. Some place far away her friends were calling her name but Sarah couldn't see them anymore. The snow was coming down too fast, too suddenly. Sarah's mama had always told her to be inside when the snow was coming down this fast. Perhaps winning did not matter so much anymore. A fear crept over her as the snow began to suddenly downpour. This was not good. Sarah should not be outside in such weather. Such weather was very dangerous.

"Wait!" Sarah yelled, coming out from the trees. Winning didn't matter. Beating Elijah Stowenn did not matter. This was not good. No, this was very bad.

"Sarah!" They called from far away. The snow was pouring in dark white sheets. How suddenly the snow could pour. "Sarah!'

"Wait! Wait!" Sarah trekked through the piling snow. Her nose was so cold: why didn't she have a scarf? Why had it grown so cold? There was nothing she could see. "I'm here! Please! Someone! I can't see!" Sarah felt like crying but her eyes seemed to be frozen. She felt like screaming, but when she opened her mouth all that came into it was snow. "Help! Help!"

Stuck. She was stuck. The wind was too strong and Sarah's legs were too weak. The snow was too thick and Sarah's eyes were not good enough to see through it. She tripped and fell flat faced into the icy drift. I can't get up, Sarah realized with panic. I can't move. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

What a silly way to die.

She was dead. Sarah was certain she had died for now she was flying. Her mama had told her that when you die, you're lifted from the ground and fly with the angels into the heavens. An angel was holding her now, for someone was holding her and the someone was flying. The angel was whispering things to her, but Sarah could not hear them. For being dead, she still felt rather cold. But she supposed corpses were cold. Yes, she was dead. Of that she was certain.

It was certain that she looked dead. Yoine Chagal nearly died himself when he saw the vampire standing there with his daughter in his arms. Rebecca was right, he realized as an ice pick was driven into his heart. Sarah lay across The Count's arms cold and lifeless, her pale skin turned blue and the tips of her hair frozen. She is dead. My Sarah is dead. Yoine stumbled through, not caring that everyone in the tavern had started to stare and not caring that he knocked over several women in his pursuit. Not his Sarah. Not his beautiful Sarah.

"Keep better watch of your daughter, Chagal." The Count spoke in a tone icier than the storm outside. Chagal reached his arms to hold his child and for the strangest moment it seemed The Count was not going to give her up. The moment Chagal thought it, the frozen girl was passed into his arms and his previous thought felt ridiculous. "I found her alone and freezing. Close to death."

"Thank you, your Excellency," Chagal bowed earnestly. Alive. His Sarah was alive. She was blue and she was cold, but breaths came out of her purple lips. "Thank you. Thank you. My daughter-"

"Be careful with her." Count Von Krolock spat the words acidicly, taking too much care to speak every letter of every work. There was a fire in his eyes that looked set to burn the whole tavern down. "It would be shameful if something should happen to her."

With no further explanation of that, The Count turned and disappeared into the blizzard like some sort of great bird. When Chagal turned, he saw the eyes of every patron upon him. No doubt this was the first time many of them had seen The Count, let alone heard him speak. It was like the sighting of some mythic creature, a vision of a god, and they all stood in wonder at it. Yet he saw the deepest question ringing in all of their eyes: why bring back Sarah? Why save the girl? Those foolish enough to let themselves out in a blizzard were usually never seen again. The Count personally saw to Sarah's return. This was dangerous indeed. Rebecca was right. Rebecca was right.

"Stop your staring!" Chagal bellowed. "Get me hot water and blankets!" No one moved. "Now!"

Another rare sighting: Chagal full of anger. It was usually his wife who did the yelling and the giving of orders. Never did he do such a thing. My Sarah, Chagal thought as he laid her in front of the fire. He peeled off her soaked hat and gloves and the coat that was turning to ice. A woman whose face he paid no attention to brought him hot water and towels while a man handed a blanket. A little boy came and dropped his scarf for her.

"Wake up, my child," Chagal breathed as he set her feet in the hot water. Rebecca must've been alerted of the news for she burst through the crowd screaming and sobbing in her usual way. "What has he done to her? My Sarah! My child!"

"He's has done nothing to her, you lunatic woman!" Chagal hissed. Though he did not assuage his own doubts until he gazed at his daughter's neck and saw it clear of any puncture wounds. "She was caught in the storm and he brought her back!"

Rebecca breathed, "Brought her back?" She half swallowed, "Brought her back, Yoine-"

"I know," Chagal hissed as he took hot water in his hands and pressed some to Sarah's temples. Her eyes fluttered a moment and he felt his entire chest collapse in relaxation. "Run her a bath, Rebecca."

"Yoine!"

He hissed, "Get a maid to run her a bath! She's an icicle!" As he said it, his daughter's starry eyes opened and stared widely at the ceiling. A noise of pure relief burst through his lips in seeing her. Slowly, she sat up and one of the women set the blanket over her shoulders. Perplexed, his daughter looked around her surroundings and then to her father. The mother had gone to fetch a maid.

Sarah spoke, "P-papa?"

"Hush, Sarah, you're home now." He said as the people around were watching intently. This was a scandal. Well, not a scandal, but it was sure to fuel gossip. Yoine Chagal's daughter carried in by a vampire. That was extremely brazen of him to do such a thing. He never did that sort of thing. Which had to mean…which had to mean he was watching Sarah. He was… Damn it. Damn it. Rebecca had been right. Or Alana had been right.

Alana. Chagal had not seen the woman in at least two years. It was said she lived in the castle now, but Chagal was not sure. Sarah was gazing at him intently, she whole body quaking as he covered her in the blanket. Why Sarah? Why her? She was pretty. Perhaps she would be beautiful later. Did those creatures know these sort of things?

Did Sarah encourage him? Rebecca said the boys at school were always being teased by Sarah. She was nine, this was insane. There was no way a child could be teasing such a creature. Sarah hardly spoke to anyone, save the Reeds girl. The Reeds girl and her bizarre father. No, no it wasn't possible that Sarah-

"What happened, Papa?" Sarah asked as she shivered. Chagal looked to the faces of those around. Mostly concerned look, pitiful eyes, but there were face too many questioning brows. Far too many low whispers. "P-papa? I-I don't remember. I was playing. I was playing and then I got stuck and I…" Sarah blubbered and tears formed in her eyes.

Chagal breathed, "It's all right, precious. It's all right."

"I'm so sorry, papa," Sarah said through shivering tears. "We were playing in the woods. I know we're not supposed to, but we were p-playing hide and s-seek and I wanted to w-win so I hid in the woods and they d-didn't find me and it started to s-snow and I couldn't see-" The tears were desperate now, choking her words and filling her throat. Anyone who'd had the looks of judgement had melted at her little display. For certain Sarah had done nothing wrong. Sarah could do nothing wrong, it was that monster. The Count was the thing that was wrong, not Sarah.

Her father held her, "There now, Sarah. You'll make yourself sick. It's all right. You're home now.'

"I don't remember how I got home," Sarah whimpered. "Did my friends find me? I remember I was flying."

Damn, damn, they were all staring again. Chagal heard his wife's feet stamping loudly on the stairs, followed by one of the maids.

He cleared his throat, "It doesn't matter, precious. And your bath is ready, so let's get you upstairs, hmm?" So Sarah was passed off to her mother and taken up the stairs. The tavern guests had ceased their obvious leering and tried now to pretend that they were talking about other things. He knew what they were talking about. Chagal felt a dark cloud settle over him as certain eyes flittered at him and then away again. He stormed to the bar, pretending he had things to do.

Jonathan Kamir spoke, "He's a big bloke, isn't he, that Count? Hardly thought he'd fit through the door frame."

"I'd give the girl's school master a piece of my mind," his far too young wife, Constance, spoke. "Allowing the children out to play on a day like today. It's a blessing no worse happened to her."

"No worse than what?" Chagal spat the girl's eye widened. Jonathan looked upset and perhaps Chagal had been a bit coarse. "You're right. Could've been worse. I'm happy Sarah is… God, I thought she was-"

"I know," Constance said with a kind smile. No one else brought up the occurrence to Chagal and the night went on as thought nothing peculiar happened. It was not so for Sarah. She was rushed upstairs and into the tub like she was ill or in very big trouble. She felt absolutely awful for having played in the snow, she really did, but she didn't know why everyone was so incredibly upset with her. Before she was allowed in the water, her Mama made her turn and put out her arm as though checking her for bug sores. Did they think she had bug sores?

Sarah stammered, "W-what's wrong, Mama?" Into the bath tub she was put without an answer to her question.

"You did not see any marks upon her, did you?" Mama asked Samantha sharply.

"No, madame," Samantha, the maid, responded sharply. "She is a child. My father says that they do not-"

"I care not what your father says," Mama hissed. "The Count has had a…"

The Count, Sarah's ears perked up. Was that who had saved her? It made sense, she supposed. The flying and the angel but… Why would he help her? It was very nice that he had helped her, but Sarah could find no reason for it. He had saved me. Mama was wrong, he is nice. He is nice to have saved me. She thought of the bear she kept tucked in her wardrobe. Sarah always thought Papa had given it back to her but now she wondered…

"…fixation on her," Mama whispered the words again in that way adults do. "At least I suspect one. Yoine thinks I'm insane but it all started with this bear…"

"The one in the wardrobe?"

Sarah's very heart caught in her throat. No. No. Mama could not know about the bear. Mama would be so cross and she'd take away Mr. Bear. Sarah had another bear, a blonde one that she kept upon her bed. Perhaps Mama would think Samantha mistaken and not go searching. But no, Mama knew, for Mama always knew. Her eyes flitted to Sarah and then to her bedroom door and she stormed off inside of it. No. No. No. Samantha looked to Sarah guiltily before leaving her alone in the bathtub.

Rebecca swept back inside, holding the black bear in front of her wide eyed daughter. This was far worse than Rebecca had imagined, far worse. It had been far worse when Yoine said that that thing had carried her daughter in. And now this. This bear. This stupid fucking little toy. And Sarah was looking at her wide eyed and fearful and no doubt confused. No doubt the little thing had absolutely no idea what was going on or what she had done…

"Sarah, I said we must be rid of this!" Rebecca barked to the young girl.

Sarah stuttered, "I know! I know! I thought Papa had given it back to me-"

"Why hide it?"

"He said to!" Sarah pleaded with tears lining her eyes. "Papa told me to hide it. When he brought it back, he told me to hide it."

Rebecca could hardly breathe. In her room. That creature had been in Sarah's bedroom. Was he often in Sarah's bedroom? A child, she was but a child! Rebecca looked at this little thing in the bathtub and thought naught how she could be alluring to such a beast. Had he hurt her? Touched her? The thought sent her absolutely fuming.

Sarah breathed, "It was Papa, wasn't It, Mama? Wasn't it?"

"Of course," Rebecca said easily. "But Sarah…" No, no she could not ask her child such a thing. Not when she was so frightened. Asking her would only frighten more. She had to. "Sarah, has anyone been in your room? Anyone that is not me or Papa or one of the maids?"

"M-maria," Sarah stammered as though she just confessed a great sin. "Are you asking about the Count? Do you think he's been in my room?"

"Of course not, sweetheart," Rebecca responded softly as her hand fiddled with the bear. A rather well loved bear, it seemed. It was not as fine as it had been the last time she'd seen it. Its fur was still soft, but warn, and its little paws frayed from holding. Perhaps there was no harm in the toy. Maybe it had all been coincidence. Maybe the bear was a kindness and the rescue was a kindness….there are no such things as coincidence. Her mother had always told her that. The words Alana had spoken were ringing in her mind. Alana had been gone for two years now. Sarah could not keep the bear.

Rebecca continued, "But the bear has to go, Sarah."

"No!" Sarah stood up, stark naked, from the bath tub. "No, Mama, please!"

"He is not good, Sarah. I can't have you keeping this gift from him!"

"But Mama!" Sarah stepped out of the tub, sliding on her robe hastily. Her voice squeaked like she was being sentenced to death. "Please, no! He's my bear! He's my friend! I love him!"

"For goodness sake, Sarah, it's a toy!" Her mother bellowed in an unkind voice. She watched as her daughter's eyes grew in fear and sadness and Rebecca felt another peculiar stab to her chest. No, no she could not relent. This was for Sarah's sake and safety. They could not have a cursed toy inside of their home. Especially not now.

Rebecca tore at the seam of an arm and watched as Sarah lost all love for her mother.

"And it's broken, see?"

"You broke it!" Sarah half-yelled and half-sobbed. "You killed him!"

"Go to your room!" Her mother instructed. "Do not leave and do not let anyone in! I need to speak with your father."

"Why did you kill him?" Sarah whimpered but her mother ignored her again. The girl was sent off to her room and slammed the door behind her.

OOO

"You gave her mother's red blanket?" Herbert said in his usually unusually high pitched tone. It grated upon Von Krolock's ears especially terrible tonight. It was nearly morning and he was tired and certainly did not need his son yelling at him. "You truly have gone mad."

"It's a blanket, Herbert, do calm down." Von Krolock sighed as he laid his head against the back of his chair. His head was absolutely pounding. He was hungry, no doubt, he hadn't made much effort to feed of late and the stores he'd made of blood were running low. Besides, it was nearing the time for the ball and he did not particularly feel like hosting a ball or finding humans for it-

Herbert huffed, "Does she...does she look like mother? The girl?"

"What?" Von Krolock said groggily. "No. Why would you ask such a thing?"

"Well, I wouldn't know!" His son muttered defensively. "I never actually got to meet the woman, did I?"

Von Krolock shot a warning look to his son who immediately was quiet. Herbert looked like Isabela if anyone did. He had her hair and her structure and the same gait in his steps. She died soon after laboring with him and that was the first time things turned sour. Von Krolock had never loved Isabela, but she had been his wife. She had been a constant companion since their courtship two years prior to their marriage. When she died, he was left with a son he was ill equipped to handle and a court that was crumbling under economic strain. He'd made a bargain to regain his power and found his words horrifically twisted. Regained power he did, but in return he lost his humanity.

"Sorry," Herbert mumbled, taking a seat on his gilded chair. He was still such a child sometimes for someone so very old. When Von Krolock was cursed, his son instantly wanted to become the same. It took years of convincing, but eventually his father relented. It would be good, he supposed, to have at least one constant companion. Even if Herbert was infuriating, he was at the very least constant.

"They're cruel to her," Von Krolock spoke eventually. Never one for sharing any bit of his inner thoughts, he could feel Herbert's dumbfounded gaze without having to look.

Herbert pressed, "You pity her? You aren't one for pity."

Von Krolock didn't respond, a usual thing, and his son scoffed and adjusted himself in his chair. He watched at his son's brain turned, trying desperately to work something out or come up with a reason. There was no reason. There was absolutely no reason this child had obsessed him. Not obsessed him but... No, no it was an obsession. Not a vulgar or immoral one, but an obsession nonetheless. Sarah was his. Watching her live and grow gave him such peculiar comfort he did not understand. And she didn't even know. Sarah didn't even know.

Part of his would prefer there being a reason for it. He'd like to think there was some great prophecy or pre-aligned stars that drew him to her but he knew there were not. He could not understand this. He could not understand why she gave him solace and clarity and why he despised her parents for not seeing this star child they possessed. He wanted her. She could come here, perhaps, and live with them. Stay a human and become like them if she wished... It was a ridiculous fantasy. An absolutely stupid thought. It crossed his mind often regardless.

"Well, if you want her to join our menagerie, I wouldn't waste too much time thinking about it."

Von Krolock moved to speak but Herbert beat him to it.

"I know she's a child, I'm not saying now. But I waited for my dear Edmure and he decided he'd rather be married than with me." Herbert clicked his tongue dismissively. "Now he has a terrible wife and a horrendously annoying little girl."

Again, Von Krolock did not speak and let his son blather on about his forgotten lover or whatever he was upset about. His mind went back to Sarah and earlier in the day. Earlier when he's taken her from the snow and she was an inch from death. The horrified looks upon everyone's faces when he'd carried her in. It had been stupid, prideful, and Sarah took the fall for it. That's why he'd given her the blanket. A sort of apology. He'd mucked up everything in his selfish display of power.

After she'd gone to sleep, he came back to her room and rested the blanket upon her. She'd pulled it into her small grasp and rested it against her face.

"Please," she had spoken softly and he worried she had seen him. "Please, God, send me an angel. Send me a friend or an angel because Mama took mine away." Sarah blubbered her prayer as she nuzzled against the blanket. It seemed then she realized its unfamiliar fabric. Sitting up, he watched as she laid out the red and crimson cloth and saw as her starry eyes grew wide at the sight of it. A smile growing on her lips, Sarah stroked it lovingly, turning it over and playing with the fringed edges.

Her eyes darted to the window and she leapt up suddenly. Sarah wrapped herself in the red cloth, engulfing her little self in the blanket, and went to the glass. Her fingers touched the cold pane leaving a clear mark as her eyes flitted along the street. She's looking for me, he thought with the most peculiar little smile. Seeing he was not there, Sarah frowned slightly and climbed back into her bed.

"I will hide this one better," she spoke to the dark and empty room.

Count Von Krolock left, a feeling he could not name filling up his chest.