Epilogue

He watched her tiptoe across the stage, graceful and petite. Behind her, the Count swept swiftly, picking her up and spinning her. He pretended to bite her and she arched backwards, her beautiful, sleek body stretching. She danced away, and 'Dracula' pursued.

What amused Eric was that the damsel in distress, so believable and doe-eyed, was the vampire and the Dracula pursuing her was the human.

"I must thank you, you know." He turned to see Nathaniel beside him. "She is exquisite. Like fine china, so very delicate and believably fragile." He flicked his hand at the stage. "I had never hoped to find a dancer of such grace yet with such a delicate form. There are so few master ballerinas to begin with, but a vampire. Mmm, it is exotic and the people love it. Your wife is a dream on the stage."

"She's my Progeny," Pam said from Eric's other side. "Don't forget that."

Eric grinned.

"What?" she demanded.

"You are proud of her. Admit it."

"Perhaps. Though I still want to fuck her silly."

"Indeed. But then, who does not?" Nathaniel asked. He turned to Eric. "In all of my years, I have not seen better. It's hard to imagine that she went her entire human life without ever gracing a stage. Can you imagine? It's like Beethoven never writing a note."

When it was over, Eric greeted his wife with a kiss. "Are you ready to go?" he asked. They walked to the top of the building and he carried her back to Fangtasia. There, she changed into the dress he had chosen for her, a sleek, sexy affair with a slit that went up the side almost to her waist.

"Really, Eric?" she asked. "Must I?"

He smirked at her. "You look fantastic."

"I look like a street walker," she responded.

He laughed openly. "Nothing you wore could make you look like a streetwalker, little doe. You look like a delicate little morsel." He held his hand out to her. "Pam and I have a surprise for you."

He led her out into Fangtasia. On the dais sat a perfect replica of his father's chair.

"But, Eric-"

"It's a replica, Alexis. Just a replica. For me to sit in while I keep an eye on things." He nodded at Pam. She pulled the cloth off of the chair beside it, which matched it in every detail except it was smaller.

When her eyes met his with a simple, uncomplicated appreciation, he smiled. The next night, when the bar was open, she would sit beside him not in a bar chair, but in a copy of his father's chair. Alexis threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.

"Hey, I helped," Pam objected from the stage. Alexis flitted to her and hugged her, as well.

"Shall we retire for the day?" Eric asked.

When they stepped down and walked across the bar, he told Alexis, "Give Pam a kiss, now. Don't be rude."

"Yes, Eric," his sweet, doe-eyed bride said.

He watched her kiss Pam and smiled. The chairs would wait. It was time that Alexis learned to appreciate her Maker... properly. He was certain that she would learn to appreciate Pam's finer points with a bit of training. Especially once she knew how very, very aroused he got just thinking about it.

When they retired for the day, he told her what he had planned, and how erotic he found it. He was pleased to find that she was, as always, aroused to a fever pitch simply knowing that she was to be allowed to please him.

And he was right. They found the night to be so enjoyable together that the chairs waited, unoccupied, for two entire nights.