Author's note: Finally, another chapter. I'm having a little trouble with direction in this story, so its taking a bit of time. As always, Dracula is not mine. Also, I use a quote from one of my favorite authors, Laurel K. Hamilton, so please don't destroy me, copyright gods, I'm acknowledging.

I kissed him back, the reaction more instinct than intent, as if I did this every day. The kiss deepened, and his tongue slid out to meet mine. I suddenly felt a slice of pain and tasted blood, and I froze. Vladmir pulled away quickly, and before I could say anything, he was gone. He didn't run away; he simply disappeared, poof!

I spat out the blood that was pooling in my mouth from the slice on my tongue, and I couldn't help but recall a quote from one of my favorite vampire novels: "If you French kiss a vampire, you risk tongue and lip injury." Thank you very much Anita. The evidence was mounting about who and what my handsome tour guide was, and the thing that was most unnerving to me was that instead of screaming and getting my stupid behind off this mountain and away from him, I was wondering where he had run off to.

I looked around, trying to see where he might have gone, although I figured he could probably be right there and I still might not see him. Who knew what he might be able to do? "Vladmir? Vlad? Are you still here?" I called, and received no answer. I sat back down in a huff. "Fine. Hide. I just hope you know it's a heck of a lot more unnerving having a vampire lurking in the shadows than to talk to him face to face." I looked around again, and for a moment I thought I saw a movement in the shadow of the chapel door. "Just for your information, I'm not leaving until I get some answers from you."

Vladmir (or should I say Vlad) separated himself from the shadows and moved toward me again, still keeping his distance. "Just for your information, Beta, you are a very stupid girl."

I shrugged as I continued to scowl at him. "I've been called worse. And you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

He sighed and glared back at me. "Fine. You wanted answers, so question." He sat back down on the step next to me, not looking terribly happy to be there.

I almost wished he'd stayed where he was; this close, he was a distraction. "Okay, first of all, I'm not crazy and you really are a vampire, right?"

"Those are two contrary questions; yes, I am a vampire, but yes, you are crazy, because you are still sitting there and talking to me like I couldn't have just torn open your throat."

I rolled my eyes. "You nicked me while we were kissing; I've had worse happen from high school guys with braces."

"But I would wager they never thought about how good you tasted."

"Point." I conceded. "Anyway, questions… I'm guessing that Vladmir isn't your real name."

"Close enough. I'm sure you've already guessed my identity."

I looked at him, considering. "Yes," I said slowly, "and that leaves me with one last question. Why haven't you had me for dinner yet?"

He looked a little uncomfortable. "That is complicated." He looked away for a moment, then turned back to me and held out his hand. "I must show you something."

I took his hand and stood, trying to ignore the tingly feeling in my fingers. He led me back to the door of the chapel and inside. He lit the gas lantern again and held it high. "Look there." I followed the glow of the lantern up to the ceiling, which was adorned by a huge painting of Vlad and, I could only assume, his wife. The face staring back at me was my own.

It was a strange feeling, looking up into my own eyes, outlined in ancient and chipping paint. I had a sudden flash in my mind of looking up at the same painting when it was new, the painters barely done. In this "memory" I turned to Vlad and gave him a crooked smile. "Isn't that a bit pretentious, setting the two of us among the angels?"

He looked back at me and pulled me close. "Not at all my dear, since you are already one of them, and perhaps with a little persuading God would allow me to follow you."

I snapped out of it and scowled over at Vladmir. "Would you stop doing that? It's creepy."

He looked back at me, genuinely puzzled. "Doing what?"

"Putting your memories in my head. You did it last night when I slept in here, and again just now. Just because I happen to look like your dead girlfriend doesn't mean I am her."

"I am doing nothing. What did you see?"

This was beginning to get too weird even for me. "You were showing me the painting for the first time, just after it was finished."

"Beta, Beta…" He moved closer and slid and arm around my shoulder. "If it were in my power to do so, I would share much better memories than that."

Suddenly my mind was filled with a very graphic memory; passion, warming a cold night. I jerked, willing the images to go away. "Ok, I get your point. Then why am I seeing these things?"

"I am not sure. Would you be willing to try something?" I eyed him dubiously, then nodded. He led me back out of the chapel, to the edge of the wall overlooking the Arges River. "Just look… and perhaps try to remember."

I stared out at the surrounding mountains, feeling nothing. But then I looked down.

The memories tore through me, cold and painful. Watching, waiting… a message from the enemy… my lover dead… and then a long, cold plunge into death. I screamed and fell, eager for the empty blackness that rushed up to meet me.