Another chapter, because... well, to be honest, because it makes it easier for me to review what I've already written when I'm typing it up on my phone at home.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

"What?!" Erin took a deep, sniffling breath and repeated herself.
"He's dead. I'm so sorry. He- he tried to stake Bertrand, and Bertrand didn't think - they're both dust." The Draculas - and Malik, who she still wasn't quite sure counted - stared at her in shock as she waited for them to process the news.
"This has to be some sort of joke, a bit of youthful-" Ingrid cut her father off, eyes never leaving the half-fang's.
"Erin's not a good enough liar to fake that kind of grief."
"But the wi- Vlad... would never stake Bertrand." Erin shrugged; Malik was wrong, it seemed.
"He tried. I was there. The stake was in Vlad's hand, but... And then when Bertrand saw what he'd done, he..." She hesitated; that last outpouring of comfort and devotion seemed private, somehow. "...turned it on himself."

That was when Bertrand walked in behind her.


"Oh, you got out, did you? Great." He treated them all to a wide, fake smile. "Seen Vlad lately? I've been looking for-" He stopped abruptly, staring down at the curtain pole the furious Count had just telekinetically thrust into his chest with a frown. "That wasn't part of the plan." He crumbled, the air around him shimmering slightly as the dust briefly formed the shape of a woman before falling.

"Mum-!" All eyes turned to Malik as he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I mean... Mum would be very impressed with your response to traitors." Ingrid rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, go Dad. Can we talk about the fact that that was a woman? Which means Bertrand wasn't insane-"
"Or he had some really disturbing secrets."
"You'd know all about keeping secrets, wouldn't you, Malik?" Erin held his eye, a challenge, but they both knew that as the Count's son - now his only son - Malik couldn't be accused without evidence. She would find proof, and hope it went better for her than it had for Bertrand.


Ingrid and the Count stood in the throne room, staring at the pile of dust in silent contemplation. Malik had taken one look and walked out; Erin had left to give them space. It was Ingrid who spoke first.
"Definitely two vampires. No way of separating them." The Count grimaced.
"Damned inconvenient of Bertrand. Now we'll have to give them botha proper send-off. Renfield!"

When the servant arrived, though, he was preceded by a decidedly startled-looking Erin.
"We've got a problem. Slayers, and they want to talk to Vlad." Four pairs of eyes slid down to rest on the pile of dust.
"Renfield, all of that dust needs to go in a large urn and be put somewhere safe. See that you take care of it. Everyone else..." The Count lifted his chin slightly to include Malik, who'd just appeared in the doorway behind Erin. "We may have a fight on our fangs."