Dante disappeared, but I remained in that place for a little longer, as if daring the vampire to make itself known.

I could feel and smell it just beyond the edge of the clearing, circling as if I were it's prey but always remaining hidden from sight.

I cocked my gun, raising it in the vampires direction. I didn't want to shoot if it wasn't required, as it would alert the Illuminati to my exact location.

I heard a voice, gentle and lilting singing to me in a slightly mocking tone in a language I did not know, the song tugging at a unkempt memory of a man softly crooning to himself.

"Who goes there? Reveal yourself, you undead maggot!"

Nothing.

"Have you ever drank the blood of another Vampire?" The voice was smooth and deep, making my body recoil slightly as a face appeared between the branches of the trees that bordered the forest that had surrounding Dante and I's hiding place. I had never seen a face like this man's before.

It was as smooth and flawless as a porcelain mask, it's eyes blank and black. At first, I thought it was one of the porcelain Noh-masks I'd seen in pictures of Japanese theater, but I didn't have enough time to discern otherwise before I felt it behind me, it's hand on my neck and arms, holding me down. I felt my body stiffen, the vampire's lips brushing against my neck as I suddenly had a flashback to the Clearing in 1943, the count's icy lips on my skin, the feel of his beard tingling against my throat moments before he tore into the flesh. But the tearing feeling didn't come.

I felt tears of sorrow and joy leaking form my eyes, staining the collar of my shirt crimson.

"Angels weep tears of blood…" He muttered, craning his neck to lick my cheek with his long, surprisingly red tongue. "My dear, our meeting is not by chance."

"Release me." I hissed. I hated this, I hated him. I had never before had anyone hold such forceful power over me as he did in this clearing.

I felt his teeth sink into my neck, but never rip away. I cried out: the pain was excruciating, unlike anything I had ever experienced before. Why was it so painful for me dead but not living?

"Stop!" I began to fight against him, my strength draining with my blood as my flesh ripped away in the struggle.

"As you wish, my darling, but be swift, for the Dogs of Hell nip at thine heels and the Bastions of Heaven seek to clip thine wings…" He muttered, touching my cheek one last time before disappearing into mist.

I do not know for how long he had held me under his power, but by the time he released me, the sun was turning the sky a soft shade of pink and I could hear dogs barking nearby, the sounds of voices calling in the hunt and heavy boots crunching through the underbrush, breaking the sacred silence. I could still feel the vampire's presence, though it was dispersed all around me like the shadows.

I clutched my neck as I struggled to transform, blood gushing forth in great bursts. I wanted to lay down and rest for a moment, but the baying of the dogs and the sound of men drawing near forced me to struggle to my feet.
"Go. I will protect you from here."
I let out a keening wail: that voice! It was too much like…
"Just go, you foolish girl!"
Without another thought, I took flight, spreading my great black wings into the morning sky. Below, I could hear the singing of bullets, the vampire's voice ringing in my head. It felt as if I were being torn asunder from within, fire burning at my heart.

It was a voice I had never thought I'd hear again, and now that I had, I burned with anger at it's mocking use. But surely no one could so closely mimic the way the Count had held me, but alas, it was impossible.

I had disposed of his body myself.

They next few days I was on the run, heading east into Germany, my body shriveled and shrunken from the loss of blood. The wound on my neck remained open, for I lacked the strength to close it. Some poor hausfrau lost a clean bedsheet to me, but someone's darling lost a lot more as I overtook a victim within the same hour. I had never hunted with as much savage desperation as I did now, chasing the poor man down and ally and sucking him dry. I was not as careful as I usually was, and I felt pity, for the young man's death was not as swift and clean as I usually hope.

Once I had a little blood in me, I felt I had the time to rest, sitting quietly with the gargoyles upon the top of the small villages church. It was times like this that made me thankful to live in England, my lifestyle now seeming cushy in retrospect, and it made me think of Anna.

More than once, I had tempted the thought of Turning her, of having her by my side for all eternity, even if it was only someone to pass the idle hours with.
But now, it seemed, that It was something I should never do under any extreme circumstance.

XxX

It took me an extra four days to return to England, which was done via a merchant ship named the 'Czarina Catharine III'. I was able to pass for one of the Living, a wide scarf wrapped around my neck to hide my unexplainably still unhealed wound. No one cast me a second glance, due to the cold.

When we reached England, and I immediately set out for Cheddar, fearing the worst of Dante. He was a tough guy, deep down, but the infection in his hand had been bad enough that I held cause for concern.

He was well enough, though, I did not find him in the churchyard, I found him at a small Wizarding inn nearby, where the innkeeper had been kind enough to put him up under the premise of work.

Dante looked right at home serving drinks from a large barrel, a white towel slung over his arm.

I don't know if he recognized me at first, but his face paled upon the realization that I was there.

"Signorina, you appear terribly! Are you ill?" He instinctively put his hand to my forehead, withdrawing it with a wince as he sat down, his face concerned. "You are icy."

"I'm always like that…"

"You look as death has touched you."

I looked at him reluctantly. "It may have. How is your hand? Were you followed?"

He sat down, shaking his head. "Not followed, no. I am safe here, I believe." He held out his hand, showing me the extent of his injury, which still wreaked of infection. "I can cover this with gloves, people believe me. England is such a wonderful place, everyone is nice."

"That's good. That's very good." I said, looking around. In the shadows opposite to us, I could make out a man through the thick smoke, his eyes following our every movement. "Dante, I need an owl, can you get that for me?"

"Si, friend-Integra. It is no problem." He rose up and left, and I took out a piece of parchment and a quill form my backpack, scribbling a quick note to Dumbledore, giving a vague explanation of the events in Rome, and the promise of explaining more once I reached the sanctity of Hogwarts. By the time I had finished, Dante had brought me the owl.

The owl soared off into the starry night as the last drunk crawled out of the pub. Dante and the innkeeper's daughters were closing up, but it seemed they didn't notice the man that still sat in the shadows.

I signaled discreetly to one of the girls, a fair haired, cherub faced teen with a sadly foul temperament. I recognized her as a third year Slytherin girl whom often doled out trouble without hesitation.

"What?"

"I'm sorry for bothering you, but that man over there…"

The girl looked at me as if I had just spat poison at her feet. "There's no one over there except for the dog."

I sat back with a frown, excusing myself as politely as possible.

"The light must have played tricks on my eyes, my apologies."

"Indeed." the girl said rudely, taking the full glass of water off of my table. Dante excused himself from the girls' company, leading me outside a few steps before stopping.

"Let us be swift, I do not know if they will be dropping the roof." He said with a shiver, a silver halo of breath clinging around his olive-skinned face as soft snowflakes fell around us.

I nodded once I realized he meant 'eavesdropping', leaning closer and dropping my voice. "As soon as the owl gets back, we will leave immediately…"
"That won't be until the daytime."

"That is fine. I'll hide in the cemetery until then. Tell no one where I am under any circumstances…" I glanced over at the open pub door, where a large black dog stood silhouetted against the amber lights. The black dog was simply staring at up, it's doleful eyes burning with unreadable emotion.

"Dante…come find me as soon as the owl returns with a reply, not a moment later, and be ready to leave here at once."

"I understand…won't you be more uncomfortable inside?"

It took me a second to register what he had said, but I nodded. "I'll be fine, don't worry about me. And Dante…be very careful of that dog."

XxX

I was thankful of the silence of Cheddar's Cemetery, it's perfectly trimmed trees dotting around the headstones, providing sufficient shadows in the moonlight.

There is something to vampires about their native soil that lends them strength, be it mentally or physically I do not know.

The caves here had long ago been the hiding places of the Wizarding community during the times when wizards and witches were hunted and burned.

I wasn't certain how I felt about this, now being an international fugitive in the Wizarding community, but the fact that I had Dante out there, alive and doubtably well would certainly shed light on the truth of what had transpired in Italy.

I trudged through the thick snow that lay on the dark path. In the town itself, there had been a soft halo of pinkish orange to illuminate the way, but out here is was lessened to a deep blue-black, which made it easier for my eyes to focus on the wintry world around me.

I could hear the soft whispering of the trees, the night birds inside them startled by the sudden and silent appearance of an intruder. I found a raised tomb, sitting back against the cold granite and looking up into the low clouds. How had things gone so ill so fast, and why?

As I sat in silent contemplation, I smelled he scent of the dog from the inn drawing near and withdrew farther into the shadows of the snowy overhang. I felt a sudden burning sensation from the open wound in my neck, the heavy knitted wool from my scarf scraping against the raw opening.

It was sniffing me out, drawing nearer and nearer to me as I pulled farther into the snowy overhang. I thought out my situation carefully. There was no doubt in my mind the 'dog' was an animagus, but having seen the scant list of registered animagii, I couldn't recall who all were registered as a dogs...

I sprang out of the shadows, my gun drawn and loaded, pinning the dog to the ground, burying the barrel in the shaggy fur on it's head. I felt two hands around my neck, cold fingers plunging into the open wound, making me cry out in pain and shock. I squeezed the trigger impulsively, but missed his head and fired straight into he snow-covered ground.

I looked down into the face of a wild, shaggy haired man who's hollowed dark eyes were staring up into mine.

"Stop it. If you shoot again, this entire cemetery will full of muggle and wizard police…neither of us want that."

"Sirius Black."

"Integra Black." He said with a smooth smile.

I pushed the barrel of my gun against his forehead and he tightened his grip on my neck.

"I'd hoped that the rumors weren't true. I'd hoped you weren't a vampire." He said quietly, dropping his hands and wiping the stale blood off on his striped prison robes. I didn't relent, still pressing the barrel of my gun into his skin. His voice was gravely and horse from disuse, and his face gaunt, though he was smiling.

"What do you want, you filthy maggot?" I snarled, cocking the gun for another shot.

"I just wanted to see the daughter I never knew."

I hissed, shifting the gun. "You…" I trailed off, suddenly laughing. He looked up bewildered, though It took me a few minutes to recover.

"It' strange, I think I would have remembered your mother…"

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but you are mistaken. I am the daughter of Sirius Black, but my bastard of a father died in 1952. You are not the first to make that mistake."

I had never seen a man look so crushed in his life, but despite this, he was still a criminal, and may well be my ticket to freedom…

"Now…it's time for you to die you dirty dog…"

"Signorina Integra!" I heard footsteps coming towards me and I felt a hand grip the back of my coat, yanking me back. I looked up into the face of Dante, and back at Sirius, who was laying sprawled on his back, staring at me from over his chest.

"I cannot let you do that, Integra, and this is why, I tell you." Dante held up one finger on his undamaged hand. In the dim light, his eyes were a twinkle. "Because I will help you prove your innocence, as will Signor Dumbledore!" He held up a piece of parchment. "Your owl came. It is quite useless for you to kill a person, now, in England."

"Let go of me, Dante!" I snarled as Sirius Black scrambled away, his shadowed eyes fading to a faint glow. I was angry on so many levels, at Sirius for interrupting my planned routine and further injuring me, and at Dante for interrupting me. I could have used Sirius's head as a bargaining tool…

Perhaps that is what led up to the 'Incident', I don't know how or why it happened. I still feel guilt for it, even thought Dante has assured me that he doesn't hold me guilty.

The gun had gone off in my hand, rupturing Dante's side. I smelled the blood before I had even realized what had happened, before I felt the wetness of his blood saturating my clothes. I don't quite know what came over me, but I felt my teeth sink into Dante's flesh.

I heard a scream, I felt his hands pushing against me, I felt the flesh rip away as Sirius pulled him back, stepping between us, pressing an upturned wooden grave marker into my breasts until I felt a sharp jab in my flesh. Dante's blood was in my mouth, running down my face when I realized what I had done. I had never seen such a look of perfect horror on someone's face, and Sirius's fierce expression…he could have very well replaced me as a vampire hunter right there…

I backed up, falling in the snow. I had never done such a thing before. I had never been so impulsive, to attack a comrade without thinking, just because I was starved for blood…

What if it had been Anna?

XxX

A/n: A quickie update right before finals. I have other stories to work on, but I keep fixating on this one.

Integra is such a mary-sue, but I think, honestly, that it's impossible to write a vampire that isn't. I mean, look at Lestat from the Vampire Chronicles and Alucard from Hellsing.

Sorry, vodka fueled authors note. I should know better by now.