And here is the next one. I hope you enjoy the story so far.

Queenmedesa: I really love your critics. They tell me that you give my story a real thought. Actually I'm not sure the count told his friend about his son being gay - I guess he just didn't find it worth mentioning. In "my" vampire-world the vampires are quite relaxed about this kind of stuff ("no morals"). I'll explain it a bit more in the chapter after this, when Herbert and Baptite first talk to each other.

Safety

Alfred watched Herbert light a fire in the small fireplace. Actually, he had intended Herbert to simply give him the folded blanket lying on the end of the bed when he had said, "I'm a bit cold." Alfred didn't want to move if it could be prevented. Whenever he did happen to, he rued it afterwards.

But apparently the Count's heir didn't want to spoil the good look on his naked back and had turned towards the cold fireplace instead. Well, Alfred didn't mind, as long as he'd be warmer soon. He suspected this freezing to be a side effect of his injury, since he hadn't been very chilled at all in that cold shack on their journey to Kronstadt.

With silent admiration, he watched Herbert's smooth movements as he finished his work and rose. He had never been that athletic. He remembered the very first dancing lesson that he had had to endure. Either he had stood on the teacher's foot, or he had knotted his legs so horribly that he almost fell. It was pure luck that he went to Königsberg before he had to accompany his parents to society balls. So he was saved the awkwardness to ask a girl for a dance. That poor girl. Herbert on the other hand – he certainly was a splendid dancer, if he moved that graciously even commonly.

Herbert sat back on the bed again and stroke a lock out of Alfred's face in a now familiar gesture.

"What are you thinking about?"

Alfred chuckled, but stopped at once,when a sharp pain crossed his shoulders.

"I thought that you're likely to be a good dancer," he pressed through clenched teeth, causing Herbert to heave a sigh.

"I have no idea how you get this idea, but yes – I love dancing. Unfortunately we only have this one yearly ball – which was cancelled a couple of nights ago." Herbert sighed again, nostalgic this time. "Well, I guess we'll make up for this once we get back to the castle. And then I'll dance the whole night, just with you."

"Oh, I don't think that's a good idea. Unless you like someone trotting on your toes all the time or dragging you down while falling."

"Nonsense. Everybody can dance – I'll teach you," he said dreamily. "When we're back home, I'll teach you dancing, hunting, and – do you know how to play an instrument?"

"Piano – if I'm compelled to."

"That's great! My father gave me a grand piano as a gift some years ago, it's brilliant; you'll see. We can play four-handed," Herbert enthused and didn't seem to notice Alfred's tortured face. "But my favorite instrument is the harp. I love to play it – but it also makes me kind of sad. Don't you think harp music makes one incredibly sad? Well, show me your fingers." He grabbed Alfred's hand from under the pillow and studied it. "Oh, wonderful. Slim and long, perfect for harp and piano."

"Herbert, don't keep your hopes high – you'll only be disappointed about how clumsy and cumbersome these fingers are. I just wasn't made to use my body in a graceful way. That's why it was perfect that I didn't have to undergo military education – I probably would have shot myself in a freak accident. I've never been a craftsman or an artist." Alfred noticed Herbert's deeply dashed look and smiled. "But I never said that I wouldn't love to listen to you. When will we start our journey back, by the way?"

Herbert shrugged his shoulders and stroked Alfred's back. The young vampire closed his eyes with relish. It felt good and distracted him from the pain. "I don't know. Father will decide, I suppose. But I don't think we'll stay all too long. You should be able to move enough in two night's time to be able to travel."

"I'm sorry I'm delaying you," Alfred said at once. He was afraid to be a burden to his Lord.

"Stop talking nonsense," Herbert said softly. "Without you, it would be Father lying here instead of you, probably in even more intense pain. The knife would have hit his belly, probably injuring some organs. In your case the knife had been stopped by bones, cutting the impact short. I don't mean to say that you don't suffer, not at all. But you should know that my father is very grateful to you and he'll show it."

Warmth spread in Alfred's body and it was not due to the now merrily flickering fire emanating heat. It was just like this time in the train, when Herbert had given Alfred his father's gratitude. To play over the embarrassment he felt, he decided to change the subject.

"Where are we, by the way? Who is our host?"

"That," said Herbert and lay down beside Alfred, cuddling to his body as close as he could without causing him any pain and kissing his neck, "is a very good question."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Silent as shadows, the two vampires moved through Vienna. Breda had insisted on Baptiste to accompany him so they could talk in peace and it would be easier to get food for Herbert and Alfred, too.

They didn't hurry when walking towards the part of the town, where they would be able to take prey most effortlessly. Breda informed Baptiste of all that happened within the past nights and his old friend listened carefully.

When Breda had finished his story, Baptiste merely asked: "Will they be able to track you to my property?"

"No. I don't think the boy will tell on me – he probably will tell the police he had brought us to the station, as I told the stable-master. And we left him two blocks away from you."

"Very well, then – but I didn't really expect less from you," Baptiste commended.

The Viennese vampire didn't need to lead the way, for Breda still knew it well enough. He had once spent nine months nonstop with Baptiste and had been visiting his eldest friend often since then.

It had been a couple of months after his changing. Breda had been the victim of a vampire named Nikolai, who once rose to lord when his sire had been destroyed by hunters. Nikolai had been the only one from his clan to survive this incident; he had been strong enough to get over the loss of his sire and finally to found his own clan. Unfortunately he chose Breda's castle as a perfect place to do so.

Breda and almost the entire court had been sired by Nikolai within a few nights. Only Herbert was saved, because at this time, the boy had been at his mother's parent's manor in order to spend the summer there. After his changing, Breda had been as emotionless as any newly risen vampire, a slave to his sire. But it showed early that he was different, for he soon found the strength to send a letter to his parents-in-law, in which he asked them to keep Herbert with them until he told them differently. His changing had not been able to destroy his undying love for his son.

For three months, Breda endured Nikolai's lordship, his suffering increasing from night to night, while his former court was happy with serving Nikolai. Breda felt that this existence wasn't meant for him, that he could not be a servant forever. Finally he had been strong enough to flee from Nikolai's influence, escaping from the castle. He started to wander around aimlessly, until his way had brought him to Vienna about four months later.

Here he had met Baptiste and the elder showed him what it could mean to be a vampire. Breda had learned to feel anew, gaining a part of his humanity back along with this. Breda had been helpless as a newborn human when he had arrived at Baptiste's, but when he had left him nine months later, he had become Count Breda von Krolock again, coming back home to HIS castle, to claim what was his.

Nikolai had been strong enough to survive his own sire's destruction, but he had been a weak leader, as Breda could see now. He couldn't match this new Breda. A fight for un-life or death had ensued, which Breda had won easily.

His whole former court had perished with Nikolai; there had been no one being able to stand the loss of their sire. Breda had been a Count in an empty castle. So his first official act as reinstated Count had been to call Herbert home – and turn him into his first subject. Breda had known exactly what he had done back then, he had known he made Herbert a slave to him. But he just wasn't able to face eternity without him. He made up to Herbert as well as he could by training him all the things he had learned from Baptiste. Herbert had henceforth been on a different level than all the other vampires he had created over the time. He wasn't equal to him, no. But their bonding was more like between father and son and a count and his heir and not that between sire and subject. But Breda also knew that – deep inside – Herbert would always be his slave with all of the consequences.

Herbert didn't know half of this story. The reason why he had never told him about it? Vanity. He just couldn't bring himself to admit that it took him more than a year to revolt against his sire. He liked Herbert to believe he had been strong enough almost immediately.

"Does your son even know who I am?" asked Baptiste, stirring him out of his thoughts. One look told Breda that his old friend and mentor knew the answer already. He always had had the feeling, that Baptiste didn't need any telepathy to read people's thoughts. So he only shrugged his shoulders, shooting Baptiste a sheepish gaze.

Baptiste chuckled. "Tomorrow I want to meet him, Breda. I think after 300 years he is mature enough to learn the truth about the oh, so strong and evil Count."

Breda punched the other vampire at the upper-arm, but not strong enough for it to be a real animosity for the Viennese. Breda sighed, yielding. He knew there was no way around it anymore. Baptiste had his own way of getting exactly his wish. And maybe the time had come to tell Herbert the truth, finally.

They halted when they heard voices nearby. Breda looked around and recognized the surroundings. They were there. This was the place where the outcasts, tramps, and prostitutes met at night; those people no one would miss. He and Baptiste exchanged a look before they nodded and started hunting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

While Breda and Baptiste, both with filled stomachs, knocked out two men who had walked carelessly away from the group, the small guest chamber in Baptiste's townhouse was peaceful. The only sounds came from the wood, burning and crackling.

Herbert still lay cuddled to Alfred, tracing the muscles on his back with his fingers. Alfred concentrated on this – as much as it felt nice, it also faded his severe pain into the background.

Both started when there was a knock on the door. Herbert stood and opened it. Elisabeth stood there, holding the bag with their traveling clothes.

"Excuse me, but my father had sent for these to be delivered," she explained.

"Thank you very much," Herbert said and took the bundle.

"Do you miss anything else?"

Herbert smiled at her. One thing was for sure: They were in a really good house with great hosts. "A bowl with warm water would be nice," he said.

Elisabeth nodded and went away. Herbert closed the door again and went with the bundle to the table, unraveling it.

Alfred noticed the regretful look to which Herbert gave the fresh shirt, looking disappointedly back to Alfred's naked back. Alfred felt the need to chuckle, ruing it once again. "I don't have to wear a shirt. Actually I don't want to, if I can avoid sitting up. Except your father wouldn't find it suitable when he comes b..."

"Nah," Herbert simply interrupted him and laid the shirt back promptly. "When he stole you from that bathroom you weren't lacking only a shirt," he reminded Alfred. "My father doesn't care."

The count's heir sat back onto the bed and murmured: "But it's time he came back with the prey, don't you think? I'm thirsty, too, and you will see: It'll do you good." He laid his hand on Alfred's back again, stroking him and promising, "Tomorrow, I'll see that you get a bath – that's always relaxing. But it's too early for that now."

When there came another knock on the door, Herbert opened it and Elisabeth came in with a huge washing bowl. Herbert thanked her, took off his shirt and started washing with a soft sponge lying in the water. That felt good, even if wasn't more than a quick wash again. It was long past time for a real bath.

When he felt fairly clean again he eyed his old shirt and the new. Finally, he grabbed the old one and donned it again, sighing. It would be better to put on the new shirt tomorrow after a long bathing. This journey really stretched his limits. He couldn't pursue his usual body hygiene, and back at home he often changed his clothes several times in one night! [

"Is the water still warm?" came Alfred's question from the bed when Herbert was finished buttoning up his shirt. He had watched the older vampire the whole time and had seen his complacency. That was one thing they shared for sure: They both liked to bathe and feel clean.

Herbert looked at him, astounded. "I can ask them to fetch new water for you," he said, but Alfred shook his head. "I'm fine with this water. You weren't exactly dirty, you know. Just face, hands, neck...just a bit."

Herbert grinned, took the bowl, and put it on the floor beside the bed. Then he took the sponge and washed those parts he could reach without hurting Alfred any more. Alfred closed his eyes and just let him do it. Herbert thought he felt pleasure via their blocked connection and smiled contentedly.

"What did you want to become?" asked Herbert curiously after a moment of blissful silence.

Alfred opened one eye and looked at him questioningly. His murmured "Hm?" supported this gesture.

"Well, you said before that you'd have never become an artist or craftsman. But what had your plans been?

Alfred tried to shrug his shoulders, but pain stopped him doing so. "I didn't know. There was a time I wanted to be a teacher. But I'm impatient with anyone not understanding what's obvious to me, you know? I can explain one thing once, I even can explain it twice. But I'm getting annoyed at the third time and can't help but thinking how stupid the other person is. Not the best requirement for a teacher, is it? But apart from this – I just wanted to study, as much as I could. I took all kind of lectures, I didn't want to miss anything. Somehow I would have found my way. But I don't have to worry about that now, do I?"

Herbert laughed. "I see – I can best lure you with my father's library instead of my grand piano."

Alfred pricked up his ears now and Herbert didn't fail to notice. He sighed. "My father is also such a bookworm as you obviously are. He can read for hours – and those aren't even poems." Herbert shook his head. Then he looked at Alfred, thinking.

"Would you have stayed with this professor and become a vampire hunter?"

Alfred smiled. "Actually, I didn't even believe in this whole vampire thing. Well – obviously I was wrong. But it was still fascinating to work alongside Professor Abronsius. He knew everything. Whenever he would hear or read a fact, he'd know it forever. He never forgot something. And he could teach his knowledge very well, too. This whole vampire obsession – well, you could only have the Professor with this. It came as a set. And I was able to go to my first real big journey because of it."

"Do you regret him being dead?"

Alfred pondered. "My mind tells me that I should be. But I just can't. All I feel is regret that it wasn't me who killed him. He laid hand on your father," Alfred tried to explain and Herbert nodded. "Maybe – when I'm better with this whole feeling thing – maybe then I can feel regret."

"And for this moment you should keep one thing in mind," interrupted a dark voice from the floor and their heads turned around. Breda von Krolock had entered their room unnoticed, carrying an unconscious man under each arm. Breda had to bite back a grin. Those two looked just like two boys caught while telling stories beneath the blanket when they should already be asleep. "So, in case you ever regret good Professor Abronsius's death, keep in mind that he mourned for you. You have been close to him, closer than he ever wanted to admit to himself."

Alfred was silent for a moment, before he finally said, "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind."

Herbert walked to his father and took one of the men. They were both dirty, smelled horridly, and were really ugly. But Herbert knew by experience he wouldn't care once the taste of their blood was on his tongue. He took the man to Alfred on the bed and helped the younger vampire to sit up. Unfortunately he couldn't feed while lying down.

"Here you are, Chéri. It's a real privilege to have a whole man for your own."

Alfred, sitting on the edge of the bed, had closed his eyes, waiting for the worst pain to subside. Now he looked at his Lord questioningly. He understood for this not only to be a privilege because of the whole man all for himself, but the man had also been hunted by his Lord in person.

"You deserved this, Alfred. You not only saved me from many vexations with your deed tonight, but you were there in the first place because you knew your old mentor that well. If it weren't for you, I would not have been freed tonight – or ever. And I don't even want to think about all those things that would have happened then. Drink – the blood will help your healing."

He made a gesture for him to be free to begin. Alfred could not have waited any longer anyway and sank his fangs deep into the carotid of the unconscious man. Meanwhile, Herbert took the other man from his father, who said: "My chamber is two rooms down the hall. I'll see you tomorrow evening, my son." Then he turned around and left the room while Herbert followed Alfred's example.

Alfred soon learned the difference it made to drink fresh, "living" blood and drawing it out of an already dead person, like that farmer in Chagal's village. He felt how life seemed to switch bodies, leaving the man with every gulp and filling him up. He also noticed the exact moment when the man died. It was an uplifting experience. Never before had he taken the life of a living being willingly and just a week before he'd denied it vehemently to ever do so. Now nothing seemed to be easier; he did it without remorse, with pleasure, even. Nothing had ever made him feel so good as this moment.

When he was finished, he needed a moment or two to come back into reality. He felt almost replete for the first time since becoming a vampire. He guessed this was the nearest to full he would ever be. The pain spreading from his shoulders into his whole body, was eradicated for the moment.

He opened his eyes and saw, that Herbert was still busy with his meal, but almost finished. He felt an echo of his own feelings via their invisible connection. Finally Herbert pulled his teeth out of the man's throat and laid his head back in his neck with relish. His lips glistened red with blood and Alfred really wanted to kiss them now. Was it just the blood luring him, or the fact that Herbert looked somehow – seductive right now? Did he really feel that way? Well, one thing was for sure – he wouldn't mind some kisses now.

Herbert came back from his blood lust as well and let the dead man drop to the ground unceremoniously before pulling Alfred's victim off him. He dragged the two corpses to the door. "I'll bring them down right away, but first I'll..." He turned around and laughed when he saw Alfred. Actually he wanted to change the dressings once more and help him into the shirt, but Alfred had already lain back on his belly, making himself comfortable. Well – if he liked it that way. Herbert would certainly be the last person to try and change his mind.

"All right then, I'll just get rid of those bodies. They only perturb the atmosphere, don't they?"

"How will you make sure they won't rise?" Alfred asked and wondered what it would feel like to have his "own" sired vampire. Suddenly being the "father" of someone. It felt absurde. Suddenly he was quite glad for the rule that no one except their lord might sire a vampire.

"I suppose they have items here. Preferably a hatchet to behead them. But since this seems to be a noble house, they probably have someone responsible for this kind of thing. I'm going to try and find this person. I'll be back soon."

Herbert left the room, dragging the bodies behind him and silence fell in the small guest chamber. The fire had burned low by now, but Alfred wasn't freezing anymore. The stolen blood warmed him from the inside. A thought crossed his mind, that maybe it had not been that good to make this experience. How would he now be able to be satisfied with animal's blood or with Herbert's leftovers? Maybe their bond of blood would help with this. He had been able to feel Herbert's relish, he'd be able to feel it in future too. But he wasn't quite sure it would be the same as having it yourself.

Herbert came back, sooner than expected. "Done. They really do have someone to deal with it. I tell you that tomorrow I'm going to pester my father about this house we're in. I mean – this Baptiste may call my father by his name. I – I never met someone who was allowed to do so," he continued while laying fresh wood on the still glowing ashes in the fireplace. "Well, that should be enough till we're asleep," he said while standing up.

Before they went to sleep, Herbert dressed Alfred's wound again with silverherb. Alfred noticed the pain had lessened within the past hours; the fresh blood probably helping it along. And so he could find a comfortable position to sleep when Herbert spread a blanket over them both, cuddling close to the young vampire.

They lay chest to chest, looking each other in the eyes. Herbert would probably never loose his fascination for the green color of his partner's. He was happy about the development of this affair. Many things hinted that Alfred was responsive to his way of love. Herbert grew impatient more and more. He was attracted to this young man more with each night. It certainly won't be long now until he'd find out for sure. He lifted the barrier to Alfred's emotions a bit, but closed it as soon as agony flooded his body. He'd have to wait a little longer.

Alfred, having no barrier to the other vampire's emotions, felt Herbert's lust for him. It felt good to be the object of desire – of course he wasn't entirely modest. After all, he was only human – no, vampire. And more and more he got the feeling that he had been lucky to stir Herbert's interest. Lucky for more reasons than simply escaping from that graveyard. He liked the Prince and could not say that there had been one unpleasant minute spent with him. His gaze found Herbert's lips again. The blood was gone by now, licked off by Herbert most likely, but they haven't lost their seductive shine.

Following an impulse, he kissed Herbert. The count's son, surprised and happy that Alfred had made the first step, responded at once. The dancing of their mouths kept on until sunrise that sent all vampires to rest.

TBC