Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

August, 1496

Adrielle

We call them firedrakes. But there are so many different kinds, the name is actually pretty unhelpful. When we get the alert that one has come too near the city and needs to be relocated, we almost never know what exactly we’re walking into.

This one is a bat-like creature, nearly the size of a horse, with leathery wings and rage-red eyes. It would be cute, if it didn’t want to set us on fire.

“You sure you don’t want me to kill this thing?” Christopher calls to me.

I picture him putting a hand to the consecrated whip on his belt. I don’t even consider going for the old dagger on mine.

I don’t take my eyes from the drake.

“No,” I say, without making a sound, “now hush, you’ll only frighten it.”

“It already seems pretty wound up.”

“Maybe it doesn’t like you.”

Christopher huffs, “I’m sure it’ll like you well enough.”

That is the idea.

I open my mind to the creature. When I connect, it whacks its long tail against the ground with a crack—a warning for me to back off. I don’t, but nor do I push further. I wait patiently for the drake to realize I’m not a threat, and that the unfamiliar sensation in its head will not cause it harm.

Slowly, its wings relax their rigid, protective posture, and its huge ears perk up. It tilts its head like a curious dog. I wonder how upset tati would be if I brought this thing back to the castle. I had a hard enough task getting him to agree to let me keep the abandoned barn kittens.

“There, you see? No one here is going to hurt you.”

The firedrake snorts, smoke puffing up around its face. I know it can understand me, though it doesn’t have any human language. Some night creatures do, but this guy isn’t a night creature anymore. It’s a distant descendant, born and reared in the mountains we both call home.

I step forward a little at a time until I’m able to press my palm against its forehead.

“Do you feel it?” Christopher interrupts.

Christopher Belmont is one of my favorite people in the world, he’s practically my brother. He’s also the one I most often want to bite. Really hard.

“Ssh.”

In another moment, I have it— something malevolent shifting around inside the drake that is at odds with its nature. It’s instinctive for me to reach inside it with my own power and gently lift the ugly presence out. I don’t know how I learned to do this, but when I was about ten years old I gained a simple healing ability which I can use on other living things besides myself.

One of the things I can mend are soul wounds dealt by dark magic. Sypha says it probably has something to do with my unusual nature, being neither human nor vampire. As neither of their kinds could perform this sort of magic so easily.

It’s a trick that’s been put through its paces in recent weeks. Something unfriendly has surfaced in Wallachia, something none of us here like the feeling of. And it’s been waking some long-dormant darkness in the magical creatures.

As soon as the unwelcome magic is lifted from the drake, it expels a spout of flame like a sigh of relief— directly into my face—and rears back to stretch out its wings. I dissolve the energy swirling in my hand and let out my own sigh. The drake butts its head against my chest, its purring sounds more like bones rattling.

Christopher whistles. “I don’t even know why you need me here.”

“I don’t,” I say, scratching the drake’s enormous ears, “but I’m not allowed to respond to creature alerts alone after the incident with the manticore cub.”

He groans, clearly bored. “Great. Let’s go home, then.”

“You go, I want to check on the gergoths.”

“So, you can’t deal with a firedrake alone, but you’re allowed to pop in to visit with those things?”

“Oh, they would never hurt me. I’ve known most of the heard since they were babies.”

Christopher just stares at me for a long moment, my friendship with the magical animals has always confused him. To a Belmont, even one who grew up around them, magical creatures are always a threat. Even when they’re purring.

“If any of them are effected by… whatever this is, we’re going to have a big problem on our hands.”

He shrugs and turns for town. “Alright, see you at home. Be careful, kid.”

I’m older than him. By almost a year.

“Do you think you could give me a ride to the place where the gergoths graze?” I show the drake a mental image of the gergoths and their usual territory.

It chirps and lowers its shoulder so I can climb on. Then, a small whine to say it’s sorry for blasting me in the face.

“That’s alright, I can’t catch fire.”

I swing myself up onto the beast’s back, grabbing its fluffy mane just as it lifts off the ground. The flapping of membrane wings must have got Christopher’s attention, he calls to me over the rushing of the wind as the drake takes full flight. He’s laughing.

“I’m going to tell your father you’ve been riding night creatures!”

The drake dives, then pulls up to gain a bit of height. I squeal, excitement rushing through me. I love being up high! Anywhere I can watch the world from above, and take in the brilliant jewel tones of Wallachia in high summer. The fields of gold and emerald, and mountains of lilac and cerulean. All cut through with streaks of crystal rivers and wide roads for travelers.

And there are quite a few travelers this time of year. The city of Belmont is a cultural and academic seat of influence, not just in Eastern Europe, but the whole world. Humans and vampires alike come from all over, and many never leave. Why would they? I can’t imagine anywhere more perfect to live a long, long time.

From the sky, I can see the whole city. The wide square, where market is held and the craftspeople work, the farms beneath me, the residential places, and the university district to the far west. And at the furthest point is my castle home. Rising out of the earth like a huge spire.

My firedrake friend dips to turn us away from town and out towards the mountains. I lower myself to its back, tucking my arms in so the air can’t push as hard against me. I shut my eyes and feel the wind in my hair. All too soon, we’re descending.

I’m deposited on a bluff over-looking the vast grassland that leads into the east foothills. The firedrake gives a hard shake to puff up his flattened fur and nudges his head into my side.

“I wonder if Christopher is going to tell his captain that he killed you. I hope we didn’t get him in too much trouble.”

Christopher joined the city guard about five years ago, when he was only fourteen. Since then, he’s done well for himself. Uncle Trevor says Chris will probably make captain himself in the next couple of years. Maybe sooner, if this resurgence of dark forces turns out to be a real threat.

The guard are the ones who usually deal with unfriendly magical creatures when they wander too close to home. To them, these ‘night creatures’ are tools or foes, never friends. Tati says I shouldn’t hold it against them. Most of the guard and other senior members of our community lived through something terrible twenty years ago, and they still carry the scars.

“You wouldn’t want to be friends with magical creatures either, if their ancestors had eaten your children,” he always says.

He’s probably right. Tati is always right. But I still don’t like it.

The firedrake’s big ears and bat wings remind me of the little imps from one of my old storybooks. He even has the same heart-shaped nose.

“I think I’ll call you Imp. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around in future.”

After another scratch behind the ears, my new friend flies away. It only then occurs to me that I’m going to have a very long walk home. But that’s alright, it’s barely noon and the day is beautiful. I flop down into the long grass, carding my fingers through the soft blades. The sky over me is pure blue, and the air out here is sweet with summer.

A platoon of fat beetles steadfastly continues its march right over my boot, undeterred by the sudden obstacle in their path. Butterflies flit around a patch of tiny flowers, and I can hear a snake moving in the grass nearby.

Just as I’m starting to float away, there are heavy vibrations through the earth beneath me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t already paying attention to all these little things.

I sit up, looking around for the source. The pattern tells me its footfalls, two sets, but they are much too fast to be gergoths. Far away from where I’m sitting is a broad access road that leads from the work yards at the edge of town to many places beyond the bounds of the city. Like a residential settlement where some little villages used to be. On that road, I make out two galloping horses, their riders appear to be racing.

It isn’t difficult to tell who the riders are. A woman in a colorful tunic with dark hair and skin. And a man, just a pale blur at this distance to anyone with eyes less sensitive than mine. Greta and tati are home early!

I nearly shoot to my feet and go after them. I could probably beat the horses in a race home. But, no. I have a job to do. Christopher is a guardsman. Greta and my father are diplomats and leaders. My other aunties, Violet and Sypha, are a school teacher and a hunter respectively. And I check in on our magical neighbors. We all have our roles.

As if on cue, hulking, grey forms begin to crest the far hill. They’re talking to each other in low, rumbling calls I can feel in my bones. I whistle to Granny, the oldest gergoth in this herd, and the matriarch.

I think that’s the right word, matriarch.

 I wait for her to call back to say she knows I’m here. The last thing I want to do is startle an animal bigger than a house.

Gergoth herds are generally small. They eat so much that if there are more than half a dozen to any place, they would strip it bare in a week. Our herd is only five. Granny, her two daughters, the older daughter’s mate, and a calf born this spring.

Granny lowers her massive head to me. The end of her muzzle has to press into the ground just to look me in the eyes. They know this routine by now. I quickly check each of them for any trace of magic that isn’t supposed to be there, but everyone seems fine. All is well out here. Good, at least we won’t have gergoths rampaging through the town square.

Gergoths are particularly intelligent among magical animals. Tati says they appear to share culture in their family groups, and they have very good memories. I’ve been working on creating new bestiaries based on our new understanding of night creature descendants, so it’s important for me to know everything I can about them.

I was planning to stay out here all day with the animals, but now I just want to go home and see tati. He’s been gone since early yesterday, and I miss him. Greta as well. Before I go, I give Granny gergoth my memory of what this new dark magic feels like. And I tell her that if they feel anything unfriendly or scary on the land they should move in the opposite direction.

Then I flash for home, crossing the open fields in only a few seconds. The forests around the city are lush, left to grow undisturbed so their sheer density will act as a natural barrier against any threat. Which means there’s plenty to climb on. I don’t touch the ground from the moment I cross the tree line. Leaping from branch to branch, practically flying over the wide spot in the river, and only planting my feet again when the woods let out at the main road into town.

From here, it’s a long walk through the city to the castle grounds. I suppose I could just climb over the rooves, but I got told off last time I did that.

xxx

Sypha

Trevor,

I don’t know if the transmission magic will work on this letter, the energy here is so foul that our simple spells aren’t working. My team and I had planned to make for home starting today, but we picked up the trail again before we had even left Wygol village. Some local parents came to us in a panic, saying they could not locate their children. If this newest lead is indeed the same cohort we’ve been tracking these last few weeks, we may already be too late to save them.

You may not be able to transmit letters to me this deep into the effected area. Dark magic hangs over this entire region, and it grows thicker every day. We are far enough from Belmont that I’m not worried about it reaching you anytime soon. But still, it is all very concerning.

Yet, I’m still not convinced we’re tracking vampires. Even though the children from the other village had injuries to their remains consistent with vampire feeding, something about it just feels wrong.

I hope this will reach you. Only so that you will know I’m alright.

I miss you. Kiss our boys for me.

Sypha

xxx

Trevor

I’m leading the afternoon’s trainees into the practice yard when a letter appears in front of me, blueish magic puffing into my face. I direct everyone to find a sparring partner and begin drills.

I unfurl the slip of vellum, it’s a letter from Sypha. Should’ve been obvious that it was sent by my magician partner, but every second person in this city knows how to perform these basic spells.

“Is that from mum?”

Christopher kicks open the training yard gate, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Got word about a firedrake out by the farms. What did she say?”

“Children have gone missing in Wygol. They think it’s the same vampires.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

“What the hell is going on out there? Everything was fine, then there’s dark magic abroad in Wallachia basically overnight. How does that even happen? What is it?”

I put a hand on my son’s shoulder. Christopher’s anxiety is palpable. He’s a good hunter, and a devoted guardsman, it’s easy to forget he’s never been through a real crisis before. Not like his mother and I.

“Whatever it is, no way it’ll get anywhere near this place. We’re well defended, at least half of us are trained fighters. Nothing and no one would be stupid enough to try it.”

He looks out at the students dotted around the training field. He knows most of them from school.

“I hope you’re right.”

Chapter Text

Adrielle

“You know, the two of you have a lot in common.”

I lift my head, sunbathing interrupted. I’m lying across the flat top of a stone wall that boarders one of the castle gardens. Greta said tati still had things to take care of. Not wanting to bother him, I came back out to enjoy the sunshine.

“Hmm?” I rub at my eyes, the sun made them blurry.

A huge, orange cat is folded like a loaf of bread on my chest.

“You and this one,” replies aunt Violet, stroking the cat’s back.

They seem to know each other, so I assume he’s one of hers. She and Greta started taking in strays when the oldest of their kids moved out of the cottage. And most people here have cats in their homes.

“Did I ever say, you’ve always reminded me of a cat? Napping in the sun, chasing rabbits, climbing on everything.”

“You may have mentioned it. Once or twice. Has anyone told you Greta is home? She’s upstairs, I think.”

Without another word, Violet pivots on her heel and strides into the castle through the garden door. Well, no one can say that woman doesn’t know where her priorities lie. I dump the cat into the flower bed under the wall and follow her inside.

The castle is a little universe in itself. I still remember when tati and I were the only ones who lived here. Then the first villagers moved in while they built their homes. But even after most had moved back out, a lot of the castle was turned into places for learning and gathering.

Now an entire wing provides work spaces for the Belmont government and law offices. Another wing is for public works— that department was run by Sypha until she started hunting monsters on the road again. And the librarians and scribes almost never leave the building.

It’s so busy here. I used to be able to go anywhere I wanted in the castle, now I’m stuck in our private quarters, unless I want to be in the way. When someone as small as me gets underfoot, it is often painfully literal.

“I was wondering what all that fuss in the square was about,” Violet says as we enter Greta’s chamber.

The two women embrace, and auntie Greta tucks Violet under her arm.

“Did you hear how they gathered to see your father, Elle?” Greta asks me.

I shake my head. I hadn’t noticed, the square always seems busy to me.

“When word got out we were on our way back, it looked like everyone in town center stuck their heads out their doors to get a look at him.”

“I’m sure they wanted to see their headwoman too,” says Violet, patting Greta’s hand.

Greta just laughs her off, squeezing her around the shoulders.

“Sure, sure. But you know how they are about Alucard. They’re so enamored with him.”

That is very true. As much as he dislikes the attention, tati is undeniably revered by the people of Belmont. Their vampire prince— no longer the prince of vampires. A hero, though most seem to have forgotten exactly why.

“Maybe they wanted a look at him because they haven’t seen him in so long. He’s barely been at home since spring.”

I can feel the pout pulling on my face. Greta coos sympathetically and pets my hair. It feels nice, and I don’t let her pull her hand away until she scratches my head.

“There’s been tensions with that enclave of vampires from out west.”

“The Styrian coven, I know.”

She pulls a mocking face at me. I suppose I am being a little petulant. I can’t help it.

“Then you’ll be happy to hear we’ve all but resolved things with them. Alucard was actually saying to me on the way home that he’s thinking of taking a little time off.”

My spirits lift instantly. Tati is going to take time away from his work, just in time for my birthday! I make that sound at the back of my throat that he has always called my ‘happy noise’. It was what I did before I knew how to laugh.

“Aw, there, see?” Violet croons, “That’s cheered her right up.”

xxx

I spend the remainder of the afternoon in the library. There is a high spot in one of the towering window frames that’s been my favorite perch since I was little. Or, since I was new. I’ve always been little.

I keep a journal with all my notes about magical creatures and their natures. By the time I’m finished filling in the days report, the sun is starting to sink.

This perch is also perfect for watching the sunset. As the sun descends this time of year, it grows brighter and brighter until it hits the top of the distant mountain range, then sends streaks of flame across the sky. But I don’t have time to wait for that tonight.

I’m not the first to make it to the family quarters for dinner. There is already someone at the table when I come in— a young boy with fluffy, bronze hair and a book open before him.

I greet my other cousin, Soleil, but he barely seems to notice me. I lift myself to sit on the table beside his book and he finally looks up.

“Human anatomy?” I ask, turning the book to look more closely at the page.

“Thought I’d test myself, see how much I remember from school.”

Soleil’s voice is even quieter than mine. One of many ways he and Christopher are so very different.

“Have you told uncle Trevor yet?”

Soleil doesn’t look up at me, he rarely looks anybody in the face when he speaks. But I’ve always thought he was most comfortable talking to me out of anyone in the family.

“I don’t think I will, actually. It’s not the right time.”

“How so?”

“First, I told him his daughter was actually his son. And that, somehow, didn’t ruin things between us. Now, I’m supposed to tell him I don’t want to be a vanquisher? It just feels like pushing my luck.”

“But if you don’t start your training next year, you need to find a mentor before all the medical apprenticeships fill up. You’ll have to speak up, eventually.”

Soleil wrings his fine-boned hands. “But not now. Not with this new threat they’re dealing with.”

“Speaking of which!” Christopher’s voice booms through the door before he’s even over the threshold, making Sol and me jump, “I don’t think dad’s taking this shit seriously.”

Soleil closes his book and tucks it under the table. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know exactly! But why hasn’t the council sent out more companies to track down the source of this… this…”

“Shit?” I offer.

Christopher flaps an arm at me, pacing back and forth along the table, “Exactly. Why is only mum’s team out there? How come nobody is doing anything?”

“Because we don’t know what this is yet,” Sol replies, voice still unnaturally calm, “Dad and the council need more intel before they can direct our resources effectively.”

“That’s why Sypha took her company out,” I pick up Soleil’s thought, “to gather more information.”

Christopher’s shoulders drop, he’s carrying more weight on them than he lets on.

“Has dad shown either of you her latest letter?”

“No,” Sol and I say together.

“I just wish she’d come home. It’s getting worse out there, and she doesn’t have enough people with her to take this on.”

“Alright, let’s think about this,” I say, “What do we know?”

Christopher drops into the chair on my other side, sighing heavily.

“We know something has released dark magic in Wallachia for the first time since Dracula’s war.”

“And it’s reviving dark instincts in the magic animals.”

“And mum still thinks this cohort of child-eating vampires— who may or may not be vampires— are connected to it, according to her letters.”

“But, even though traces of the foul magic have reached us, the epicenter is dozens of miles away,” says Sol, putting a hand on his brother’s arm, “So, at least we’re safe here.”

Christopher returns his shoulder squeeze before going back to pacing.

“For now, Sol. We’re safe for now. Never mind the idea this could be another vampire lord amassing power. Or a whole coven! But have we even considered this could be more resurrectionists? I mean, how many times have we heard about that sort of thing?”

I chew my lip. “You’d think after twenty years they would realize it isn’t worth the effort.”

“I might only be a guard, not a council member or diplomat, but we hear things too. There are cults all over the world who want to bring Dracula back from the dead. What if this is one of them?”

I consider his question for a moment.

“Then, I think, our parents would have told us. If that’s what they had discovered.”

“What makes you think that?” Soleil asks.

“Because, then it would be a family matter.”

xxx

Soleil

Dinner is peaceful. It’s been a while since most of us were able to share a normal meal like this. For all Christopher’s obvious anxiety, and my unwillingness to answer any of aunt Greta’s questions about my studies, the adults do an admirable job keeping the conversation light. What my brother can’t seem to see is just how uneasy dad and Greta actually are.

Violet tells us lighthearted stories of her young students and their schoolyard antics, and Greta recounts her exploits as Alucard’s right hand during their recent talks with a coven of foreign vampires. They are trying so hard not to let slip how much this dark magic situation scares them.

Elle spends the entire meal watching the apartment door, waiting to see if Alucard will join us. He doesn’t, and as soon as we’re getting ready to clear the table she excuses herself and drifts off toward their chambers.

I catch my dad’s eye over the table. He only gives me a reassuring look. Mum and dad have always had a way of keeping fears in the family at bay. They’re vanquishers, after all! Chris and I never had nightmares about monsters climbing through our windows to get us. And they taught us to play our parts in the community well, so we always had a deep sense of belonging to something bigger.

At least, I never used to have those sorts of bad dreams.

But now that I’m sixteen, and Christopher is living away from home in the guardsmen’s barracks, mum has gone back out on the road with her fellow organizers and sorcery students. To offer aid in the furthest reaches of the country.

I’m proud of her, of course, but I wish she’d come home already. Chris is right, things are only getting worse out there, and dad is clearly worried for her.

I go over and over what Christopher said about mum’s most recent letter. Vampires who may not be vampires. What could she mean by that? What makes her think that might be the case? If simple magic isn’t working where she is, I can’t contact her with the transmission mirror. But maybe I could find an answer in the library.

When dad and Chris are settled with our aunts by the cold fireplace, I slip out and make for the tower library where texts on vampires are kept. There has to be some other way I can be useful to my family, and my community, without needing to kill monsters. Maybe if I find that other way on my own, it’ll make it easier to tell dad I don’t want to learn the family business.

xxx

Adrielle

“I heard you rode a firedrake today.”

Tati doesn’t look up from the book in his hand when I come into his room. He’s reclined on the sofa that used to be my bed.

“I can’t believe he actually told you.”

“He didn’t,” tati says, clearly amused, “I overheard him telling Soleil. I think he was impressed.”

“Are you?”

He pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my middle. He’s trying to hide a smile.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled at the idea, no. But I trust you know what you’re doing.”

I tuck up my legs and curl myself into a ball to lie with my ear against his chest. This is my favorite spot in the whole world. Everything is alright as long as tati is with me.

There’s always at least a little fire going in here, because he and I are naturally colder than humans. The room is warm and smells of leather and spices. I remind myself to tell tati he should talk to uncle Trevor in the morning. But I can't recall why just now.

“Greta says you’re taking a break from work.”

“Only for a week or so, I’m sure there will be a long list of things to do when I get home.”

My stomach drops. “When you get home? From where?”

“Do you remember when I told you of that monastery I wanted to visit?”

I comb through my head for a few seconds.

“The one that found all those occult books in their basement?”

“Yes. Greta was going to send a few of our scribes to have a look at the manuscripts, to see if it’s worth making copies for our archives here. But I thought I’d like to go instead.”

I sniff irritably.

“Sure, sounds like fun.”

“Is something wrong?”

Something about his tone only irritates me more. It’s too light, like he isn’t really concerned about leaving me again. Or that he’ll be gone over my birthday.

“No, it’s fine. Who wouldn’t want to go see some stupid books at a stupid monastery.”

Tati hums and lifts his hand from rubbing my back, probably to lean his chin on it.

“Well, if that’s how you feel, I suppose you don’t have to come with me. If you would prefer to stay here, I would understand.”

There it is, a clear smile in his voice. I sit up, grinning wildly at him.

“Really?” I squeak.

“You didn’t think I’d leave you alone on your birthday, did you?”

“No!”

He laughs, “I think we could both use a little time off. I know how busy you’ve been with your studies, and your monster friends.”

“They aren’t monsters anymore, tati.”

“We leave at first light, so I suggest you go get some sleep.”

I push my head against him as hard as I can because my arms are too short to hug him tight enough. He kisses my hair and refolds me in his arms.

“Never mind,” he whispers, “sleep here.”

I’m so excited! I get to spend a whole week just me and tati, like the old days. And I get to explore an ancient monastery. And there will be beautiful gardens, and libraries full of weird, old books. And probably lots of places to climb.

This is going to be the best birthday I’ve ever had!

Chapter Text

Adrielle

Tati has trouble waking me in the morning. Eventually he just lifts me out of bed and sets me on my feet. Which involves dusting three cats off me. The barn kittens I took in last year aren’t kittens anymore.

I’m excited to head out, but I’m so sleepy.

He leaves me to check I’ve packed what I need, reminding me that if I’m not down to the stables in fifteen minutes he’ll leave without me. I know he doesn’t mean it.

I dig through my pack one more time before fastening it and quickly pulling on my clothes. Before I leave my room, I secure my knife to my leg. It’s a little dagger with a jewel set in the handle that belonged to tati when he was my size. I was taught to fight with it, but I’ve never really needed to. I mostly use it to dig up interesting plants for potting in the greenhouse.

The cats watch me from the bed. I tell them to be good and kiss each one on the head. They can tell I’m going to be gone for a few days and they aren’t happy about it. Lastly, I make sure my plush bear is sitting up in his correct position beside my pillow.

I arrive down at the stables under the castle a few minutes later, still plaiting my hair. A stable hand walks my pony to me. Her name is Raisin, but I’ve never told anyone because they would make fun of me. I think it’s a perfectly fine name for a little, golden filly. She nickers and blows in my face to say good morning.

“We’re going on an adventure!” I tell her silently, stroking her nose.

Raisin pushes her head against me, swishing her tail.

After double checking my tack, I climb easily into the saddle to wait for tati.

“All set?” he asks when he joins me.

“Yes, where have you been? I was about to leave without you.”

He smiles indulgently and accepts my teasing while he collects his own horse. Tati’s mount is an imposing, snow-white stallion that Christopher accidentally named Charger, after the war horses of the past. It stuck, even though our Charger is as gentle as a lamb.

Tati ties the open lace on my boot before lifting himself gracefully into his own saddle. I reach out to scratch Charger’s neck. He tosses his head, proud and impatient.

“Alright,” tati says, “shall we be off?”

I agree, and we race from the stables at a full gallop.

Dawn has only just begun to break by the time we reach the road. The morning air is sweet and cool on my face. Either Raisin is unusually fast for a pony, or Charger knows to let us keep pace with them. Whichever it is, I’m not worried about falling behind or getting lost.

We don’t slow down until we pass beyond the city limits. There are other Belmont settlements out here, built where old villages used to be. Greta and Violet’s oldest son is a councilman representing one of them, Danesti, a hamlet of mostly craftspeople and workmen out by the big river.

We cross paths with some women from Lasa village and stop to let them get by our horses. They carry large, woven baskets and their wide belts are laden with tools. The women stare wonderingly up at tati, murmuring to each other. They’ve never seen The Alucard up close. I stifle a laugh, I know how much he hates being called that.

But that’s probably just what happens when you give up your family name. Being called simply Alucard of Wallachia opens up so many possibilities for strangers to put him in whatever box they like. The most popular box seems to be the one for fairytale heroes.

I’m proud of the way his people love him. He’s earned their respect and admiration, and I think the role of hero fits him perfectly.

xxx

Jun

The gilded chest at my elbow rattles uneasily. I release the catch and the transmission mirror shards lift the lid as they align in the air. I school my face so as not to appear too eager. Contact after less than a day can only mean I was right to send someone to watch the castle.

“What news?”

The man on the other side of the mirror swallows hard. He knows if he does not have the update I want, he will go the way of his mercenary colleagues.

“Master, we may have him. He left the city at dawn, with the girl. They are undefended.”

I roll my eyes.

“They are not undefended, you fool. Alucard is one of the most powerful vampires in the world. Do you know where they are going?”

The man— I don’t recall this one’s name— goes stiff, mouth pulling down in a grimace.

“Not yet, but we will keep on their trail.”

It’s impossible to hire competent mercenaries these days.

“Do. When they arrive at their destination, let me know, and wait for me. Until then, keep your distance, stay out of sight, and do not waste my time again.”

“Yes, master.”

The mirror shards barely make it back inside their case before I snap the lid shut. My plans have been well laid, but there is much still to do. I’ll need to be ready to leave here within the day.

Down at the cells below this commandeered castle, my guards snap to perfect attention when I enter the corridor.

“Open the door,” I command.

The guard on the left looks at me with anticipation, blood-red eyes gleaming in the low light. “Are you going to use one of them?”

“You’ll find out if you open the fucking door.”

They do as I tell them and stand aside. It’s sweet, really. My soldiers are as eager for my satisfaction in this matter as I am.

Inside the cells are three men huddled against the back wall. No longer mere men, actually, but powerful soldiers enhanced by the blood of vampires. These have not been pulling their weight recently, so they’ve been reassigned as test subjects for my workings. They cower back against the wet stone as I approach.

“What are you going to do to us?” one of them asks, shivering in only his thread-bare tunic.

I smile beatifically down at them, “Anything I like.”

I snap my fingers and an alchemical array fans out beneath my feet, filling the cell with its cold light.

“Come,” I say as I step backward out of the circle.

The men know they have no choice. They can either enter the magic circle on their own, or be dragged in. The oldest of them chooses his dignity and gets to his feet. After a fortifying breath, he strides forward over the edge of the array. The spell activates, and the air rings with screaming.

The soldier’s eyes go dark and his sobbing turns to roars. The magic does exactly what I tell it to do, altering my subject down to his very essence. I cannot see every change that is occurring, I’m not that perceptive yet. But with power like this, I don’t need to be to achieve my ends.

But this human man isn’t anywhere near strong enough to withstand the force of the spell. The true vampire on which I last performed the working survived long enough to be turned out with the others. A beast among simple ghouls. They were in some backwater ditch called Wygol, last I heard. But even that full-blooded vampire succumbed to the spell, in the end, and was destroyed by it.

Within only a few moments, the man drops dead at my feet. I snuff out the array and leave the other two prisoners alone with their friend.

My power has grown exponentially. The spell will work. After twenty years, the time has finally come. The Alucard will face justice for his sins.

xxx

Adrielle

We ride all day. Most of the land out here is farms owned by those who work it, little villages, and dense forests. We’re still well within the boundaries of tati’s domain, even when we leave the valley for open country. I always forget just how far his reach extends beyond the walls of the city. It must be a huge task to keep an eye on everything, even with help.

But tati is determined that any unfriendly vampires moving through the region wouldn’t dare get too close to home, or our family. According to Sypha, it’s well known even in neighboring countries just how much of Wallachia is under the protection of the city of Belmont. And our vampire prince.

When we finally stop for the night, I realize I never bothered to ask where we would be sleeping. I was having so much fun talking with tati and learning about the places we passed through, I didn’t care about anything else. But the idea of making camp deep in the woods is exciting! I haven’t slept outside since I went on patrol with uncle Trevor and my cousins a year ago. I had a lot of fun that night, Sol didn’t.

“It’s quiet out here,” I say, sniffing the air, “I can’t smell any of that ugly magic.”

“At least we know which direction it’s coming from.”

“Doesn’t that mean it might only have one source?”

“Possibly,” tati uses the voice that means he thinks I’m being clever, “If there is only one source, it’ll be that much easier to deal with. And we will.”

I should be comforted by that. But I’m not sure how much he even knows about what’s been going on. Tati has been so busy. In and out of Belmont every week, for months. Has he ever felt the magic up close before?

He notices my hesitation, “Come sit, you don’t need to worry about any of that now. There is no dark magic here.”

The night will be mild but we make a small fire just for comfort. I drop onto my mat and stretch as hard as I can, yawning so big my jaw cracks.

Tati taps me on my head. When I sit up, doing a very good job of pretending to be wide awake, he places something cold in my hands. I open my eyes fully and it takes a moment for them to adjust to the firelight. It’s a little flask made of quilted glass, the stopper is topped with a pointed teardrop shape. Inside is fresh blood, rich and dark.

I pluck out the stopper and put the vial to my lips. Tati says I’m not a vampire in the usual sense, for many reasons. Most important is that a normal vampire would be able to drink blood from any living thing. But I can only drink his, anything else makes me sick. We never figured out why.

Not long after I was born, there was an attack on the castle. I didn’t listen to tati when he told me to stay where it was safe, and I was hurt badly. He gave me his blood, hoping it would save my life. I still remember the taste of fear and deep, deep sadness.

It worked, his blood and a long nap in a magical coffin healed me. But I wasn’t quite the same when I woke up.

“I would prefer if neither of us fed while we’re at the monastery. I know the humans who live there, I wouldn’t bring you around them if I didn’t think they were safe. But still.”

Tati has always been wary of clergy when they visit Belmont. But I always thought monks and nuns were easier to get along with. They remind me of the Speakers, content to serve their communities and collect knowledge.

If Raisin came over and kicked me in the chest, it would probably be a lot like the feeling of drinking tati’s blood. Even after a day in a flask, it’s still potent enough to make me wince. I can sometimes forget how powerful he is. He’s my father, he takes me on walks in the mornings and reads to me so I can fall asleep.

But he’s also one of the strongest vampires left in the world. I finish the blood and my body goes very warm for a minute. I shake off the excess energy in me like a dog shaking off water. My eyes are suddenly heavy and I crawl over to curl into tati’s side. He asks if I’d like a story to fall asleep to, and I just barely nod my head.

Sleeping in the forest is much noisier than my room at home. Bugs and night birds talk to their friends, and I can hear the far away padding of large paws on the undergrowth. But I don’t have anything to be afraid of, nothing can hurt me as long as tati is here.

xxx

Christopher

“Slow down, explain it to me again.”

Soleil sucks in a breath, hands flapping nervously. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him this worked up. I’m his big brother, but he’s been the one calming me down lately.

He shoves past me and closes my bedchamber door, not wanting to be overheard.

“I’ve been monitoring the transmission mirrors, just in case anyone has been listening through our sealed line of communication.”

“How long has that been going on?”

“A couple of weeks. I just wanted to be certain everything is secure. I didn’t want anyone with ill intent to learn where mum is traveling, for example.”

“Fuck. This whole thing is already making us paranoid.”

And we don’t even know what this is yet.

“I don’t like it either. But we all have to do our part to keep this place safe, don’t we?”

I swear, there are moments Soleil sounds just like mum. It’s uncanny.

“There was a man,” Sol continues, “human, no more than five-and-twenty. And someone I think was a vampire. I was tuning the mirrors to check for weak spots in the spell, and I accidentally keyed into another transmission spell somewhere in the area. They were talking about Alucard.”

I swear again. “He left this morning with Elle.”

“We need to go get dad. I think they’re in trouble.”

xxx

Adrielle

The little town that hosts the monastery is alive with activity when we arrive in the morning. We leave Charger and Raisin at the local stable yard to be watered and bathed while we have a look around. The first thing I notice is the surprising number of vampires everywhere I look. Or, maybe they aren’t vampires. For some reason, I can’t tell for sure. They smell like vampires.

Most of them slip away as soon as they notice I’ve spotted them.

I look in the little shop windows and run ahead of tati down the main street. He keeps taking me by the shoulder and placing me back at his side. I’m getting annoyed at him by the time we leave town through the other side of the square and begin making our way up to the monastery.

Once we reach the gates he seems to relax. The walls of this place have magic on them.

“Strange, I didn’t think monastic communities went in for this sort of thing,” tati says, mostly to himself. “Probably a good idea, with all those ghouls lurking around.”

“What’s a ghoul?”

“A creature from folklore. But it can also refer to a human who drinks the blood of vampires.”

I wrinkle my nose in disgust, “Why would they do that?”

“Many reasons. Those people were carrying a lot of concealed weapons, so I’d guess they’re mercenaries looking for work. But I doubt anyone out here has the means to hire them. This sort of thing happens all the time in the old capital.”

If I know one thing about life in Targoviste, it isn’t easy. Even now, after years of rebuilding and resettlement. If bad people have made it all the way out here, it could mean trouble for this village.

The head monk shuffles down the sloping front path at a dangerous speed for someone of his age. He draws back the gate bolt with surprising strength and waves us through.

“Lord Alucard,” he says brightly, “how wonderful to see you again!”

Tati bears the deference with grace, but his eyes are tight.

“You as well, Prior. It’s been a long time.”

Tati places a hand on my hair.

“This is my daughter, Adrielle.”

I do that bendy-leg bow thing girl’s do in European courts, and smile up at the old man.

“Lady Adrielle, it’s an honor. Welcome to my home,” he sweeps an arm towards the monastery, bowing slightly.

It’s a common greeting in our country. There's a story that goes around which says it originally came from tati, when he welcomed the Danesti refuges to the castle twenty years ago.

I don’t remember if that actually happened.

I’ve only been called Lady a few times, when I was present for important political events back home. Then, I was The Lady Adrielle of Wallachia— because we don’t have a typical family name. It was weird then too.

But the abbot seems to really mean what he says.

“The honor is mine, sir. Thank you for having us.”

I hold tati’s hand as we make our way up the path. The lane is lined with planter boxes overflowing with flowers and herbs. The breeze smells strongly of lavender and fruit blossoms. Below the hill the ancient monastery sits on, is a wide field with a pond, and I can see the spire of the nearby convent poking out over the distant trees.

The abbot has already begun to tell tati about the manuscripts he’s come to see. As I look around for the first thing I want to climb when he goes to the archives, I spot what looks like one of the ghoul men from the village lingering on the other side of the bolted gates.

Chapter Text

Sypha

Trevor,

I am on my way home. We were too late to save the children from Wygol. We believe these vampires are moving further south, towards Belmont. Gather the council, we need to make some decisions about protecting the city. Curfews, doubling the watch, that sort of thing.

I’ll see you soon. I love you.

Sypha

xxx

Trevor

Love,

I hope the spell will take this time, and you’ll actually receive this letter. Don’t use your transmission mirror. Stay off the main roads. And don’t go near towns until you and your party are out of the affected area.

I’ll explain when we see each other.

Be safe.

Trevor

xxx

Alucard

Elle rubs at her eyes and sits up slowly. She makes unhappy noises as she rolls her shoulders back. I told her she ought to return to our quarters to sleep last night, but she insisted on staying with me in the monastery library. Apparently, folding my coat under her wasn’t enough to soften the wooden bench.

The monastery has several small rooms acting as libraries. This one where Elle and I spent the night is below ground. As a result, it’s dark and musty, with only narrow windows and a few lanterns to see by.

Elle blinks and looks around, unsure of where she is. Then her eyes land on me at the nearby work table and she slides off the bench to come to me.

I lift her onto my lap. It’s reflexive, I can’t help it. If she wanders too close to me, she ends up in my arms. She mumbles a good morning and complains in her tiny voice that she’s hungry.

“Then let’s make you presentable, and go find something to eat.”

I push her loose hair out of her eyes, and she blinks uncomprehendingly at me. It takes another moment for her to remember we’re in a new place.

Meal times here happen at a truly ungodly hour, and we’ve already missed breakfast, even though morning has barely begun. After washing in the guest quarters, Elle and I walk in the courtyard.

Every flower bed and plant box is overflowing, birds and insects fill the air with their chatter, and a cat goes streaking passed our feet after a mouse. Elle giggles and seems to argue with herself over going after it.

No one looks twice at us. Neither the monks going about their business or the other guests appear to find the presence of vampires at all noteworthy. As we’re making our way through the garden gate, I notice a monk walking along the covered pathways that trim the courtyard. He’s obviously a vampire, with nothing done to disguise that fact. He must feel me watching him because he turns to offer me a pleasant smile and a nod before entering the sanctuary.

Sometimes I think I’ve finally caught up with all the ways the world has changed in the twenty years since my father’s war. Then I encounter some previously impossible thing, such as vampires living peaceably among humans.

That is the way of things in Belmont, but I would never have imagined it possible in a monastic community. Even the church felt the shift in the country, and adjusted their ways. I doubt God himself saw that one coming.

Maybe I should take the time to hunt, after all.

Elle and I walk along a thin lane through the orchards behind the property. She drifts between the trees, looking for interesting things to eat. She fills her old drawstring sack with roots, mushrooms, berries, and what little ripe fruit she can get from the orchard. I help her wash her findings in a nearby stream, and we continue on our way.

It’s nice to get out into the world after more than a dozen hours below ground in the archive. Thus far, I haven’t found much in the manuscripts I feel would be worth the effort of copying. Most of it has been to do with long-disproven theories on human alchemy, and journals filled with the well-meaning but ultimately useless hypotheses of ancient physicians.

Actually, the latter are pretty entertaining. I kept catching myself wishing I could show them to my mother. I think it would have made her laugh.

We discover an old ruin in the forest. Elle immediately climbs the tallest remaining wall and asks me what this place had once been. I’m honestly not sure. There was clearly a yard at the front, long ago. But now the trees nearly touch what remains of the façade, and the interior has been hollowed out.

“Most likely a fine house,” I cross through a gap in the wall where the door may have been, “there’s a foundation for a stove here. And I think that may have been the hearth.”

I indicate a recess in the floor. Elle twirls atop the wall, long hair flying around her.

“You know everything,” she exclaims, giddy with the fresh air and sunlight.

It’s been too long since I’ve seen her like this. Perhaps I’ve been too preoccupied lately. It wouldn’t mean the end of the world if Elle and I didn’t go directly home when we’re finished here. Greta can hold things down for just a few more days.

I’ve been thinking I’d like to take Elle to Lupu village. They’ve rebuilt admirably, and I know she’d enjoy seeing where I spent so much of my short childhood.

Mother’s cottage isn’t there anymore, but I’m sure we could find the hollow by the river where I used to play. I think I buried a few treasures in the woods, as well. It was probably only coins or animal bones, maybe a few toy soldiers, but Elle would have fun searching for the exact spot.

Elle flits across the wall, hopping lightly from broken peak to broken peak. She catches the sounds of a small animal nearby and takes off after it, it’s one of her favorite games to play by herself. She never means to harm her quarry, only to see if she can catch it without using her powers.

She returns only a minute later while I’m still walking the perimeter of the ruined house, pouting impressively.

“It got away,” she grizzles, looking genuinely annoyed. There are leaves stuck in her hair and grass stains on the knees of her stockings.

“That’s too bad. But I think I see a bunny in need of chasing. I wonder if I could catch it.”

The little points of her ears prick up, and her enormous eyes glint expectantly. She knows what comes next.

Elle moves before I do, flashing into the forest so fast that I barely see it happen. We don’t always play this game at our full speed, but she is clearly over-excited. She has always been just a little faster than me, but cannot maintain it over great distances. The country here is mostly flat until we reach the foothills, so there is nothing to slow us down before Elle’s stamina wanes.

She slows only the slightest bit and I grab her, wrapping her tight in both arms and growling for effect. She laughs and laughs, but her thrashing pulls me off balance and we slide down a steep decline at the edge of the path. We crash through bushes and shred the undergrowth. A flock of finches shriek with alarm and scatter into the trees.

Elle pulls herself up to sit half on my chest, while I lay in the ferns and bracken in no rush to get back up. She’s still giggling helplessly, pushing hair out of her eyes. Whenever she laughs, that wisp of her essence under my ribs shivers like a candle flame.

We have stumbled on an old riverbed of smooth stones. It doesn’t look like water has run here in some time. She gets unsteadily to her feet to take a look around. I watch her pick over the rocks to find the perfect one to bring home for her collection.

I don’t think Elle has noticed we’re being watched. Her posture is relaxed and unconcerned. I’m not particularly worried either. There is only a trace of power off the person concealed in the trees, they don’t feel like a threat. Still, I’m on my guard. My sword is back in our apartment at the monastery, it seemed rude to walk around the place with a weapon on my hip.

I’m going into the nearby village anyway, I think I’d better speak with the abbot about these ghouls before I do. Maybe I could see them off before we head home.

xxx

Trevor

Alucard’s transmission mirror won’t activate, something is blocking the spell. As far as I know, he and Elle aren’t anywhere near the regions affected by dark forces. But it’s possible there could be a second source we didn’t know about. Or, that it’s moving fast in another direction.

I almost want to ride out there myself. Just to make sure they’re alright. They probably are. But something just doesn’t feel right. Not after what Soleil and Christopher told me about the conversation they over-heard through the mirror.

I haven’t had two minutes of peace since yesterday. Which means I still haven’t been able to speak to Greta and the council about Sypha’s letters. Night creatures attacked a transport on a backroad beyond the city. I happened to be close by at the training yard with some of my older vanquisher students, so we were the first to respond.

We haven’t seen destruction like that for a long time. I haven’t had to kill that many monsters at once for a long time. But those creatures weren’t from here. Elle has talked my ear off about the kinds of magic animals that live around Belmont. These weren’t local. They must have come through the mountains.

The strange magic is no closer to the city, but the consequences of it are escalating. As soon as we know what’s going on with Alucard and Adrielle, I’m taking a company out to find the source of this shit. It’s time to act.

xxx

Adrielle

Tati told me not to leave the monastery grounds, but I don’t see the harm in going for a walk within sight of it. I’m bored, and the day is warm and breezy. There is unsurprisingly little to do in a monastery. Unless one enjoys weird, old books. Which I don’t, turns out.

I stay on the main footpath that leads past the vegetable gardens and animal yard. Monks and local farmers are going about their afternoon at a lazy pace, in no hurry to get anywhere. I’m in no hurry either, because I don’t really know where I’m going yet.

There is an interesting scent down a narrow path hidden by a low tree, so I turn that way to follow it. The path is lined with wide stones that lead to a garden bursting with flowers and fruit. An old chapel droops at the back of the yard, like it’s always been there.

A group of nuns are gathered on logs which act as benches, enjoying the shade under a massive oak. They are carrying on a conversation in gentle voices that remind me of lullabies.

Not wanting to be seen, I slip off the path to hide myself in the greenery. I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to make it back to the main footpath without being spotted when one of the gentle voices wafts in my direction.

“It’s alright,” says the nun, “you don’t have to hide.”

The others echo her assurance.

I slowly step back out where they can see me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I smelled your garden from the path and wanted to have a look.”

“That’s perfectly fine. Isn’t it, sisters? It’s such a lovely day, we thought we would make some tea and enjoy it.”

She gestures down at a little stove beside their log benches where a fire crackles happily under an old kettle.

The one to speak is older than the others, by maybe twenty or thirty years. Her eyes are the color of rain clouds and there are deep smile lines around her mouth. But something tells me she doesn’t smile very often, despite the softness in her expression.

“I’m Sister Ana,” says the nun, she pronounces it like a local—ah-nah.

“How do you do, Sister Ana? I’m Elle.”

The other nuns are staring at me, one’s mouth is hanging open. My skin prickles and I’m torn between keeping an eye on their reaction and staring at my boots.

Sister Ana only tuts at them in a good-natured way and waves me closer. I inch forward.

“Don’t mind them, child, they’re only surprised. We weren’t expecting Lord Alucard’s daughter to grace our humble garden.”

“You know my father?”

“I’ve never had the honor of meeting him, but our brothers told us he would be visiting them,” she nods over my shoulder to the monastery, “We did not know you would be with him.”

“Bringing me along was a surprise, because tomorrow is my birthday.”

She coos in that way only parents usually do, approving and indulgent.

“You look just like him,” one of the younger nuns interjects, “the mirror image!”

“I don’t know about that,” I say shyly. I have tati’s coloring— his pale skin and hair, and golden eyes. But he is fine featured and full grown, and my eyes are too big for my face.

“I think I’m too small to look much like him. I’ll be nineteen-years-old tomorrow, and I’ve never grown a single inch.”

“Will you really never get any bigger?” asks the same young nun.

I shake my head.

All six women exchange glances. I wonder if I should have avoided the question. Tati has always warned me against disclosing my nature to anyone. He worries that people will react badly. Though, I don’t think he actually believes I could convincingly pass for a human girl.

That’s why I was rarely allowed to leave the village for the first ten years of my life. But these nuns already seem to know about me, so there really isn’t any point pretending.

“An eternal child,” says Ana, stormy eyes crinkling, “what a blessing.”

I laugh, “I’m not sure most parents would agree with you. My aunt and uncle were completely done in by the time their sons were grown up.”

She looks suddenly sad, though she hides it well. The lines around her mouth deepen. They aren’t from smiling, after all.

I’m about to ask if I’ve said something hurtful, when another of the group pipes up. Almost like she’s trying to change the subject.

“Who are your aunt and uncle?” asks another nun, she has strong brows and olive skin.

“We didn’t know the Lady Lisa had other children, besides Lord Alucard,” says another, a round woman with rosy cheeks and sturdy hands.

“No, no, they aren’t related to us by blood. Trevor and Sypha are my father’s close friends— and I have other aunts too.”

“Trevor and Sypha Belmont!”

“Belnades, actually. But yes, that’s them.”

The nuns share another wide-eyed look, exclaiming excitedly.

Ana seems to pull herself out of her daze and gives her sisters another indulgent huff.

“Hush, all of you. You’re being rude. Forgive them, miss. It’s just that your family are heroes in this country.”

“Not at all,” I reassure her, “I’m sort of flattered. No one could be more proud of them than I am.”

Without warning, what looks like an enormous rat comes screaming out of the garden beds, yapping in a way no rat ever has. The scruffy dog snaps at my ankles, warning me away from his nun friends. I’m so startled by the pitch of its barking that I stumble backward and trip over the little stove.

The simmering kettle spills onto the grass and my hand lands directly in the fire as I try to break my fall.

Sister Ana immediately springs to her feet and drags me upright and away from the fire by my wrist. Before I can get a single word out, she’s examining me for injuries. Finding nothing but a scratch on my palm from the rough edge of the stove.

She turns my sooty hands over and over as if expecting blisters to appear at any moment. There is an angry, red patch on the back of her hand from getting too near the heat.

“I’m alright,” I say, opening both my palms to her, “I’m not hurt.”

The others lean in to have a look, murmuring to each other.

“Impressive,” says the woman with the strong brows, “are all vampires resistant to fire?”

“Definitely not. Fire is one of the most effective ways to kill them. But I’m not a vampire.”

“But you don’t age, and we saw you scale the monastery bell tower just this morning.”

I blush. I got bored almost as soon as tati left for the village and decided to go for a climb.

“I’m not a vampire. But I’m also not human. I was made by magic.”

That brings them up short. After a long pause, they all begin to ask me for an explanation. All except Sister Ana, who is still holding my hands.

“After the war,” I begin carefully, “my father spent a long time alone. He was hurting and needed a reason to go on. A powerful spell misfired and made me. Magic is sort of… aware, in a way. It could see what tati needed, it could see how desperate he was.”

I stop my words so I don’t accidentally say too much.

“He must have indeed been hurting,” says Ana, “killing his own father must have been horrific.”

I almost flinch. Some times its pretty uncomfortable that so many people know about our family’s deepest wounds. But then, I suppose, it’s their wound too. In a way. All of these women lived through the war, and some are young enough to have only been children when it happened.

“It was,” I agree.

“And so soon after the loss of his mother. I think I see,” Ana says, voice far away, “the magic that made you sought to protect him from losing you in the same way he lost Lady Lisa.”

There it is again— Lady Lisa. Hadn’t one of them called her that a moment ago? I don’t think I’ve ever heard her referred to that way.

“I guess so, yeah. There’s one more thing.”

I take Ana’s blistered hand and focus my magic on it. She gasps when the burn begins to heal before her eyes. The scratch on my hand seals as well.

“It isn’t like other vampires, they heal quickly on their own. I have to choose to do this.”

“How?” squeaks the youngest nun, I don’t think I’ve heard her speak yet.

“I don’t know, it just comes naturally to me.”

Ana and a couple of the others cross themselves and mutter about how good God is. I can’t disagree. Whether it was God, or magic, or some combination of the two, I’m grateful every day that it stepped in to save tati. The world is better with him in it.

“It must come from Lord Alucard’s mother,” exclaims Sister Ana.

“Yes,” replies the nun with olive skin, “perhaps you can do these things because she was a healer.”

I have had that thought before, though now doesn’t seem like the time to explore it. But I wouldn’t have expected nuns to make that connection.

“Lady Lisa, God rest her soul,” says the nun with rosy cheeks. The others murmur their agreement. I get the feeling I’m missing something.

“May I ask why you call her that?”

Ana smiles sweetly at me, “You probably only know her as grandmother, don’t you?”

I don’t. I’ve never really been able to understand Dracula and Lisa Tepes as connected to me in any way that matters. They are tati’s parents, and distantly associated with my extended family, through their involvement in the war. But I never think of myself as having a grandmother and grandfather. They were both gone before I was born.

“I would like to show you something,” Ana says, “would you mind following me into the chapel?”

She’s offering me a chance to say no, in case I’m not comfortable going indoors with a stranger. I take a second to consider.

“Yes, alright.”

We wash the ash off our hands at the garden water-spout, and Ana leads me up to the leaning chapel at the other end of the yard.

Chapter Text

Adrielle

I don’t often visit chapels or other places of human worship. The church has a pretty sparse presence in Belmont, but I’ve snuck in a few times to see what the proceedings were like for holidays, weddings, and things like that. I’m always struck by how heavy the air is. These places always smell so strongly of smoke and wax. It wouldn’t be so bad, if the windows could open.

Sister Ana leaves the front door ajar behind us and leads me through an archway into the sanctuary. The inner walls are white washed, which makes the room feel open and airy in a way I wouldn’t have expected from the outside. Good thing too, because the windows are mostly painted glass, or they’re so small that looking at them for too long makes my chest feel tight. The wall sconces glow with a greenish patina in the meager light of their candles.

The worship places of this tradition don’t have seating, and every footstep or rustle of leaves outside echoes off the walls. In all, the sanctuary is sort of cozy, if a little cramped.

“Just here,” Sister Ana’s voice is too loud, even though she’s almost whispering.

I’ve been standing at the mouth of the archway, taking in the room. I didn’t notice she had stepped away from me. To my left, along the back of the sanctuary, is a line of simple wood frames mounted on the wall. Sister Ana holds out an arm, asking me to come closer.

The frame she’s standing in front of holds a painting in the style of an icon, rather than the sumptuous portrait style I’m used to from home. The image depicts a woman with long, golden hair, in a frock the color of open sky. She’s kneeling in a bed of white flowers, a lamb cradled in her arms. Beside her kneels a young boy. His hair is lighter than hers, and his eyes are citrine yellow, rather than blue, but they have very similar faces. The boy’s arms are open as though he expects to receive the lamb.

I try to say something, but no words will come out. It’s deeply chilling to be looking at an icon of Lisa, and tati as a child.

“You wanted to know why we speak of your grandmother with such respect. It’s because we, as the church, have much still to do to earn her forgiveness and favor.”

Rather than spit out the dozen questions swirling in my brain, or laugh at Ana’s comment about earning forgiveness, I let her words sink in. There is a thought, a connection, that I’m trying to catch. But it keeps getting away from me.

I focus hard on the figure of tati. I’m not sure if I should even think of him that way, because this boy didn’t know me yet.

“I don’t understand,” my voice comes out even reedier than usual, it’s so quiet that it doesn’t echo.

Ana makes a sound like she’s amazed.

“You really had no idea? I expect there are paintings like this in churches all over the country. Lady Lisa is revered by the people of Wallachia.”

“Why?”

“Because she was a martyr, and a good woman.”

“But you didn’t even know her?”

“Not precisely, but I was present at her death.”

At once, I’m as cold as ice and I can’t feel the tips of my fingers. Ana doesn’t appear to notice.

“I was close enough to hear her call out to Dracula to spare us all. She knew we were broken and ignorant. We didn’t know the cost of what we were doing.”

My legs are quaking. The stuffy sanctuary is listing slightly around me. Does tati even know about that? His mother’s last words? He’s never told me anything specific about her passing, only how and why it happened.

Sister Ana doesn’t seem to be looking at the icon anymore. Though her eyes are still locked on it, her gaze is focused inward. I’ve seen that look on countless people back in Belmont. Even tati.

She’s seeing things she doesn’t want to be seeing behind her eyes. When Ana speaks again, her words are thin and creaking. Leaking out of her so slow it’s like she’s in a trance.

“My family— my husband and my two baby girls— they didn’t make it. The girls were carried off. My husband was eaten by monsters before my eyes,” she takes a shaky breath and touches the figure of Lisa reverently, “If only she had not died. She was an angel on Earth. Of course he would avenge her.”

“Sister Ana,” I say carefully, “she was only a woman. Brilliant and kind, so I’ve been told. But only human. No more, no less.”

“Then why would the king of the vampires fall in love with her? How could she tame him?”

“How do you even know about that?”

“I learned her story after the first attack. I wandered the country for years, alone, with nothing, spreading the tale of Lady Lisa. The woman sent to save us from Dracula. She would have turned him, she would have protected us. But the church interrupted her work. But your excellent father saved us, in the end. He fulfilled his duty to his mother’s people. Even though we did not deserve deliverance. And then he was given you, miss. As a reward.”

My mouth has gone dry. I don’t want to be in this room any longer. I frantically search through the stories tati has told me about his parents. None of it matches up.

“They fell in love because they respected each other. Dracula wanted to be a better man for her. Lisa was no more heaven-sent than my father. They were just a normal family. They were happy.

“Then why—”

“Because he was hurting after she passed away. People who are hurting make bad choices.”

I default to what tati has told me again and again. It’s the only explanation that has ever made sense to me.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you. But I don’t think I want to hear any more. I need to go now, tati will be back soon.”

I flee from the chapel and out into the fresh air. I’d hoped the sunshine would burn this slithering feeling off my skin, but the sun has been swallowed by heavy clouds by the time I get back outside.

The other nuns are still seated under their big oak tree. They’re peering up at the sky, trying to decide if they should head indoors. I’m careful not to let the chapel door bang against the wall so as not to frighten Sister Ana, and make my way back down the garden.

“Is everything alright, miss?”

I don’t catch which one speaks, I’m too focused on not tripping over my feet. I gather myself to reply. I don’t want these strangers to see my discomfort. Did they know what their sister was going to show me inside?

“Sister Ana only needed a moment alone. Please, excuse me.”

I leave without another word.

xxx

Soleil

Christopher,

Please come to the alchemy laboratory, when you can find a free moment. I could use another pair of hands, preferably ones I trust.

Dad told me Alucard’s mirror won’t activate when he calls, and I’m trying to figure out why. He was right about something blocking the spell, but I have no idea how it’s happening. The mirror is in working order, I checked it before they left. And they aren’t near the affected zones.

Also, I found something in an old vampire text I need to tell you about. It may explain why mum can’t identify the people her company is after. Then you can tell me all about your fight with that monster on the bridge this morning. I heard you were quite the hero.

I’m glad you weren’t hurt,

S

xxx

Adrielle

I don’t let myself run back to the monastery. I don’t want to attract notice. But I’m not paying attention to where I’m going, and crash into someone walking in the opposite direction.

“I’m sorry,” I say, smoothing down my fringe.

“That’s quite alright,” replies a flat, masculine voice.

Looking up, I see I’m standing before a young man, perhaps no more than five-and-twenty— with dark, almond-shaped eyes and smooth, black hair. It’s been ages since I’ve seen anyone with features like his. Even in Belmont, where we get visitors and diplomatic guests from all over the world.

He’s wearing an imperious expression. Most everyone I meet looks down on me, in the literal sense. But rarely has anyone glared at me like I kicked their cat. It must be the lingering unease of my conversation with Sister Ana, the convent is still so close it would be visible if I looked over my shoulder. But I don’t think I want to turn my back on this man.

Something about his look makes my skin creep. Neither of us has spoken for a moment too long. I get the feeling he’s sizing me up.

“Well,” I say stiffly, working to keep my tone friendly, “sorry again. Good afternoon.”

I have to walk around him, as he makes no move to step aside. Keeping one corner of my awareness on him, I continue down the footpath towards the monastery. It seems a much greater distance than when I came this way only an hour ago.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Adrielle, The Alucard’s daughter?”

I freeze in place. The lilt in his question tells me he already knows the answer. There is something like amusement on his face, and a gleam of arrogance.

“I am. Do we know each other?”

I’m trying to work out the meaning of his oily smile when he takes a step towards me.

“Oh, no. But I know of your father.”

I barely resist rolling my eyes. I have to make sure I’m not going to telepathically transfer the jeer before thinking, “You, and everyone else in this country.”

His entire demeaner has an air of self-importance. When he runs his fingers through his hair and laughs in a breathy, dishonest kind of way, I turn on my heel and make to leave. He clearly only wants attention, and he thinks I’m too oblivious to catch on. But I’m not interested in stoking a human’s ego right now.

“He’s an impressive man, your father.”

The way he says man makes my hackles rise. It’s not like I’ve never encountered anyone who wasn’t fond of tati. People like that exist. But most wouldn’t follow his daughter down a backroad.

He catches up and jogs out in front of me, blocking the path.

“Let’s start again. I’m Jun. My parents were Alucard’s students many years ago.”

I let my face go slack. Now that I’m sure he’s just trying to keep my attention on him with lies, I’m going to make myself as uninteresting as possible.

“My father never took on private students. Only uncle Trevor and Aunt Sypha do that.”

Jun’s disquieting smile widens, and I’m almost sure I can see points on his teeth that shouldn’t be there. That puts me on my guard. I take a moment to read this stranger, but I can only sense traces of magic on him. Nothing out of the ordinary, he could’ve picked that up walking through a particularly old part of the forest.

He seems to be able to tell what I’m doing, and finds it entertaining.

“They knew him before the founding of your lovely city. Worry not, Adrielle. I’m no threat to you. But I was hoping to speak with your father while I’m here, I’ve come a long way.”

Cold, like the sensation I felt in the chapel, races up my spine. I waste no more time on niceties, and flash back to the monastery. He would have only seen a streak of red and a cloud of dust, with his human eyes.

I clamber over the outer wall just as the rain arrives. I tip my head back and let it wash my face, the sensation is calming. It’s a short walk to the guest quarters across the courtyard. I feel very exposed in the open space. Our room is empty, tati hasn’t retuned yet. It’s a relief.

Among his things I find a thin, silver box. About the size of a book, and decorated like a jewel case. Tucking it under my arm, I slip back out of the room and out the gate on the far side of the yard. I don’t plan to go far this time, I just want to be far enough away that I won’t be overheard when tati gets back.

xxx

Greta

I’m so worn out, I don’t know what to do with myself. This chair is digging into my back, and if one more person talks to me, I’ll scream. There is a note from Trevor on the work top in front of me, but I don’t have the energy to read it. He’s been trying to find a moment to speak with me since yesterday, but like everyone else, I’ve been flat out.

The mirror box on my desk rattles, the lid doesn’t align properly because I’ve slammed it a few too many times, and a light emanates from inside. When I open the latch, the pieces of the transmission mirror float upward. A squeaky, little voice is speaking before the device even fully activates.

“Greta, are you there? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you, Elle. What’s wrong?”

When the image becomes clear, she’s huddled somewhere dark. Or maybe it’s just cloud-cover. I can hear the sound of rushing wind and rattling branches.

“I don’t know. Something weird happened.”

“Do you want to tell me about it, or do you want to ask your question first?”

I can just tell she called to ask something pressing.

Elle hesitates, chewing her lip and refusing to look into the mirror.

“Maybe I’m making something out of nothing.”

“Go on, honey.”

“Did tati ever tell you about taking in human students of some kind? Before he met you and founded the village?”

Ok, I hadn’t been expecting that. Warning bells go off in my head. I have no idea how much Elle knows already, and I don’t want to accidentally reveal more than Alucard would be comfortable with.

“Could you not just ask your father?”

“He’s not here.”

She doesn’t have to say out loud that she is debating whether to tell him what’s got her so worked up.

“Please, Greta.”

“Alright, take a deep breath. Are you safe?”

She does as I tell her, “Yes, I just came out for some fresh air.”

Thunder rumbles on the other side of my mirror.

“Ok, yes. Alucard once told me about two humans from the far east who came to live with him. This would have been a few months before you were born. They wanted him to teach them how to kill vampires.”

Her huge eyes lose focus, then catch a flash of lightning like jewels in firelight.

“Did something happen?” she sounds like she’s on the verge of tears, but the image in the glass is so dark from the approaching storm that I can’t see Elle clearly.

“How do you mean?”

“Between tati and those humans. What happened?”

I take a deliberate pause before speaking, giving us both a moment to calm ourselves. I’m almost certain I know what’s going on in Elle’s head

“I think you’d better ask your father.”

“I think I met their son.”

I have to ask for clarification. Not because I didn’t hear her, but because I’m hoping I misheard.

“I met a man today, on the road outside the monastery. He told me he was the son of two human students who lived with tati before Belmont was founded,” she’s tripping over her words, struggling to enunciate through mounting distress.

“Elle, that’s not possible.”

“But he said—”

“Those students were siblings. Twins, in fact. Whoever that man you met was, he isn’t their child.”

xxx

Adrielle

My stomach is twisting into knots. I have heard about this type of stuff before. But I’d never imagined a baby resulting from it. Why would anyone ever do such a thing?

“Fine, maybe he lied. That doesn’t matter,” I say, shaking my head. I have to stay focused.

“Alright,” Greta gently replies, “then tell me what’s upset you so much. What did this man say to you?”

Frustration overwhelms me and I begin to cry.

“I don’t know. He just kind of scared me, and I think he threatened tati. But he didn’t, really.”

“Why don’t you go indoors and wait for Alucard to come back. He can explain things. And you’ll feel better once you’re warm and dry.”

But I don’t want to tell him anything.

I know Greta can guess why this has upset me so much. She knows I was made with some understanding of tati’s life before I was born. Sister Ana was wrong. I was not a reward given to my father for ending the war on humanity. I was a tool made to give him a reason to live. I needed some prior knowledge of his suffering, so I would know to stay at his side.

Ever since I was new, I’ve seen flashes of pain in my mind. Scraps of memories. Images and sensations that I can’t quite describe because I’ve never felt them myself. If the people in those bursts of memory are the students that man was talking about, they hurt tati very badly.

I think he might have killed them.

All I know for sure is that in the first few days of my life, before I introduced myself to tati, I could hear him crying at night. He had so many bad dreams. Once, he seemed to be pleading with someone.

“…I know your lives have been hard…”

I didn’t understand what any of it meant at the time.

“Elle, honey,” Greta says quietly, bringing me out of my head, “did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

She smiles gently at me. I just want to go home. This place doesn’t feel safe anymore.

“Everything will be alright. You and Alucard aren’t in any danger. I mean, honestly, do you know anybody who could take him on and win?”

I laugh wetly, “No, I don’t.”

“Exactly. Get inside, that shack is going to blow away any second.”

“I think it’s a barn, actually. I smell goats.”

“Ew. Go indoors and wait for your father. And you can always call me again, if you want to talk.”

We say our goodbyes and I shut the transmission mirror away in its case.

Back in the guest chambers, I lay my wet clothes by the fire and dress for bed. It’s barely early evening, but I have no plans to leave this room again today. Hopefully, I can get tati to agree to go home tomorrow, without having to explain why.

I need more time to figure out how I’m going to tell him about this Jun person. Never mind that business in the chapel. Maybe we can find another village or more ruins to explore on the way home. If we can play or have a lesson about something we see on the road, he won’t feel as bad about traveling on my birthday.

I’ve been curled up in the chair by the fire for a while before the apartment door opens. I bolt upright, my body is anticipating an unwelcome visitor, but it’s only tati.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he sheds his wet coat and drops it over the rack by the fire, “Were you sleeping?”

I murmur and shake my head. He scoops me up to take my place in the chair, and settles me on his lap. I’m instantly calmer. Greta was right, we’re alright. I’m safe as long as I’m with tati.

He takes in my sleep clothes and puffy eyes, then runs the backs of his fingers over my forehead. Even after half an hour by an enthusiastic fire, I’m still ice-cold with the shocks of the afternoon.

“Are you not feeling well?”

“Guess not. I just want to go to bed.”

“Do you want me to stay with you?”

I push my head into his chest.

“For ever and ever.”

He hums into my hair, “As you wish. Would you like your gifts before you sleep?”

I peer up at him, slightly more awake.

He has me sit up. I yawn hugely. I hadn’t realized how tired I really was until I could finally relax.

“I thought I’d have to hide these until tomorrow.”

Tati takes a fine chain from around his neck and loops it over my head. I take the thing on the chain in my fingers and turn it over and over. It’s a gemstone pendant in the shape of a fat, five-pointed star.

The pale blue color is suffused with yellow and pink when it catches the light. And I can just see through it. I would have thought it was glass, if not for the traces of energy it holds. Nothing as fabricated as glass could ever feel like this.

“A star,” I mumble.

“For my little light.”

I make my happy noise and mash my face against him again.

Little light, Luminița, the second name he gave me when I was a few months old. Not a tool. Not a reward for suffering heroically. A beacon, his north star. Tati once said the only thing he would ever ask of me is that I be myself. Because that’s enough.

We are enough, exactly as we are. We never had to earn love, or a life without pain. He loves me enough to want to work towards a better, peaceful world every day.

Sister Ana was wrong about something else. And, I think, so was I. Tati isn’t a storybook hero. He’s just a good person. Profoundly good. Because he chooses to be.

He taps the end of my nose. I’m falling asleep.

“There’s something else.”

He sets me on the cold floor. The feeling is uncomfortable on my bare feet, so I shuffle over to stand on the rug. Tati goes to the storage trunk at the end of the bed and produces a long, dark object. There are metal parts that glint as it moves.

He kneels before me, presenting a dagger in a sheath of black leather. I recognize the design of the hilt and handle. I take it gingerly from him, it fits perfectly in my hand. The blade slides free easily, magic flaring invisibly in the air, then fading quickly as I hold it up for a better look.

Too short to be a sword, too long to be a knife. The dagger is a perfect copy of tati’s sword, scaled down to my size.

“I thought it was time you had something all your own.”

I’m grinning in a way that might make someone think I shouldn’t be allowed near weapons. I can’t help it.

“Do you like it?” his smile says he can tell I do.

I slip the dagger back into its sheath and throw my arms around his shoulders. I’m trying to laugh, but can’t quite manage it. I’m not sure why, after so many years, I still have trouble using my voice sometimes. But tati understands.

When I’m again looking into his face, there is something unspoken hanging in the air. The foremost reason he would feel the need to give me a magical weapon now is the mounting danger back home.

Everything is probably fine back in Belmont, no one has contacted us to say otherwise. But the knots in my stomach have not come undone.

Chapter Text

Adrielle

I stare at my dagger, focusing on it as hard as I can. It doesn’t move. It just sits on the edge of the planter box, refusing to respond.

I can’t understand it. I’m sure I felt magic on it when I first pulled it from the sheath. But now, nothing. As though the wind carried it away. Another gust sweeps through the courtyard, seeping right through my traveling cloak. The weather hasn’t improved, but the rain has stopped for now. The sky is still so heavy with clouds that the moonlight can’t get through.

Maybe I’m too distracted. After tati left me to sleep, I laid in bed for hours. Trying to come up with a way to tell him about the man I met on the road. Every explanation I settled on felt wrong somehow. When he fell asleep, I came outside to pace. It always seems to work for Christopher when he’s anxious.

There has to be a way I can talk to him about it without causing him pain. I could always let Greta or Trevor do it. But that doesn’t solve the problem of asking tati to leave the monastery early.

I groan and force my attention back to my dagger. It still won’t move. That’s disappointing, I was hoping I could control it telekinetically, like tati does with his sword. I thought that’s what the magic was for. Probably, I’m not strong enough to use it. I scrub my hands over my face.

“What are you doing?” tati’s voice comes from behind me. I didn’t hear him approach.

“Nothing,” I pout.

He strokes my hair and guides us over to the little, stone bench beside the plant box.

“You’re out in the cold, alone, in the middle of the night. That doesn’t seem like nothing. Is something troubling you?”

I don’t respond, and I don’t look at him.

“Is it something to do with things back home? Are you worried for the others?”

I tilt my head side to side. It’s like saying I’m not sure, but maybe.

“I’ve been thinking about what else I could do to help,” I say.

It isn’t a lie. It’s just one of many things crowding my head at the moment.

“What would you like to do? Perhaps, we could figure something out together.”

“Maybe I could go out on patrols with uncle Treffie and Christopher. Or, Sypha could teach me more spells. At least, I thought I could do that. But now I’m not sure I’d be able.”

“Why’s that?”

He’s rubbing circles on my back, like he always does when I’m upset. It actually helps a lot.

“I forget sometimes, I’m not very strong. I can’t even connect with the knife you gave me.”

Tati makes a curious noise and looks over my head to where the dagger rests on the edge of the box. Still, it doesn’t move. His eyes flash red and he holds out his hand to focus the effort. Nothing.

“Maybe it’s defective,” I offer.

Tati’s expression is serious.

“No, I tested it before we left,” he rises and picks up the knife, examining it closely and frowning, “That doesn’t make sense.”

I watch him intently as he appears to be listening for something.

“Do you feel that?” he asks.

I do as he once taught me and open myself to the energies around us.

“No, I don’t feel a thing.”

“Exactly,” his voice is suddenly serious, but he sounds like he’s speaking to himself, “Why didn’t I notice sooner?”

“What?”

“There are protections on this place, we felt them on the outer walls when we arrived.”

It takes a moment to recall what he’s referring to. At the time, I barely took in the fact that the monastery has magical defenses. It’s so common back home.

“Are the protection spells preventing magic from getting inside?”

“And suppressing any that does make it in, I’d imagine.”

“But I spoke with Greta through the mirror yesterday, it worked fine.”

“Were you within these walls when you did that?” he gestures to the high walls of the garden that connect all the way down to the gate at the bottom of the hill.

“No,” I say sheepishly, “I was at one of the animal pens across the field.”

Tati reads the energy again, an amused little smile on his mouth.

“It’s a powerful working. Powerful enough to hide itself, even from me.”

Something occurs to me that makes my heart race.

“What if someone from home tried to contact us? If our mirror doesn’t work, they probably won’t be able to transmit letters either.”

Tati hums his agreement, but he still seems like he’s focused somewhere else. His eyes are suddenly hard and narrowed. I bristle, something’s wrong. He’s caught something on the air I haven’t.

I wait for him to tell me what to do. Either to go back inside, or hide myself, or run.

He swears under his breath, and holds out a hand to me. I understand the signal and move in close beside him, tucking myself under his cloak.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

“The magic on these walls is a cloaking spell. It’s strong, but poorly constructed. Not only does it prevent magic from activating in here, it obscures anything outside.”

Then I feel it. It’s more than one thing. It’s many, nearly two-dozen pin points of energy. There are two-dozen people somewhere close outside the walls of this courtyard.

“It feels like the night creatures,” my voice is so low that no human could hear it. But the presences closing in might not be humans.

“Is it those ghouls from the village?”

“Most likely. Wait,” he pauses, focusing, “I can sense something else on them.”

“What do we do?”

“Be calm, we don’t know what they’re planning. They may only be surveilling the monastery, looking for trouble.”

I can tell he knows more than he’s saying, but he doesn’t want to alarm me any further. These people— or, whatever they are— have been watching us since the moment we got here.

“I think they’re looking for us.”

“No, not us. They can have no quarrel with you.”

His eyes flash again, but of course, his sword doesn’t answer his call.

The ghouls are close enough to the walls now that they could probably reach out and touch them, I can hardly make out their footfalls. A sound overhead grabs my attention and I peer up to see a figure crawling over the roof of the guest quarters behind us. Two more follow.

Across the yard, more shadowy forms are cresting the rooves of the abbot’s apartments and the chapel. One is climbing down from the bell tower. There are definitely more than two-dozen.

Tati carefully passes my dagger to me. I immediately secure it to my belt and wrap my own cloak tight around myself. Magic or no, it’s still a blade.

The intruders don’t bother to climb over the garden wall. Instead, they break the latch on the gate with a resounding crack like a bell tolling, and file in. They march in a way that tells me they’re organized and experienced. As soon as they’re inside, the yard floods with the reek of something corrupt and dark.

I’m torn between clinging to tati or giving him room to move, in case they attack.

A door opens somewhere on the far side of the yard. The abbot, the old man who greeted us so warmly when we arrived, emerges from his chambers holding up a lantern. The candle is only enough to illuminate a small circle around him, but he can still see the shadows of unwelcome visitors in the garden.

“What is the meaning of this?” he barks, his thin voice holds surprising authority.

A mercenary ghoul standing close to the abbot orders him to be silent. Saying that this doesn’t concern him, and he’ll be allowed to live if he shuts his mouth. The abbot does not obey, and I look away just fast enough that I don’t see the blow when it lands. But I hear the old man’s sounds of pain, and I can smell his blood.

The man at the front of the party that came through the gate steps forward and speaks to tati.

“Lord Alucard,” it’s like he’s intentionally trying to make his voice more sinister, “you will come with us.”

“Will I?” tati’s tone so flat it almost doesn’t sound like a question.

“Our master is eager to speak with you, he’s come a long way.”

“And who is your master?”

The stranger gestures, and one of the other ghouls holds the courtyard gate open.

“No questions,” he glances down at me and smirks, “let’s go.”

Tati’s expression and posture are placid and relaxed, but I can feel the tension he’s hiding. There is absolutely no way he can take all of these ghouls on alone, without a weapon.

“I will go with you, only if the girl and the abbot are allowed to return in doors— unharmed.”

“We don’t care about him. But she comes with us.”

“No.”

The ghoul matches tati’s unnervingly calm affect, but a thin smile shows through the mask, “Fine, we could always kill her right here and drag you back to our master. Maybe we’ll take her with us to visit those pretty nuns down the road.”

Nausea burns my throat, but tati does not rise to the threat.

“Allow her to remain here, and I’ll go with you to speak with your employer.”

Behind us, there is the unmistakable sound of blades being drawn.

“You’re in no position to make demands. Master wants you both. Move.”

What can he do? We’re outnumbered and without backup. I don’t think I could take down even one of these enhanced humans by myself. Though I haven’t moved an inch, I’ve been searching the courtyard for a way out. The ghouls have every exit blocked. We couldn’t even get out over the roof.

And we can’t leave the humans to face these monsters alone. God knows what will happen to them if we don’t comply. These mercenaries have played their cards well, almost like they knew tati would never abandon innocents.

Tati keeps a hand on me and moves slowly towards the gate. Careful not to move too quickly. I pull his cloak closer, as if it’s night-black color will hide me from them.

The ghouls growl at us as we pass, but it comes out wrong. Like someone pretending to be a monster in a school-yard game. They may carry vampiric magic in their blood, thanks to their disgusting practices, but these men are not vampires.

We are herded in to the trees, I’m not sure there’s even a path here. Wherever we’re going, it’ll be far away from any help.

xxx

Soleil

“They’re ghouls!” I exclaim as soon as dad and Christopher are within earshot.

Dad understands me right away, but Christopher asks for an explanation.

“Ghoul is a pejorative term for a human who drinks vampire blood,” dad says, “The practice has been dead in Wallachia for decades.”

“Maybe not,” I reply, directing their attention to the books I’ve laid out for them.

We’re in mum and dad’s private quarters. Things have quieted down out there, for the moment, and I can finally sit them down and tell them about what I’ve found. No matter that it’s well past midnight.

“Mum said in her letters that she isn’t sure the people she was following were actually vampires. And I think she was right. I believe they may be ghouls,” I indicate a particular passage, “When they’ve been drinking vampire blood for long enough, ghouls eventually develop a desire to drink the blood of other living things. But it doesn’t feed them the way it feeds proper vampires.”

“That tracks,” says dad, pinching the place between his brows. He and Chris never look more alike than when they’re frowning.

“Vampires wouldn’t behave like this, they wouldn’t kill so indiscriminately,” Christopher adds.

“I don’t think its indiscriminate,” I pick up the stack of mum’s letters dad let me read, “They almost exclusively take children when they feed. Failing that, they still decimate livestock and leave the mangled bodies of house pets for their people to find.”

Dad and Christopher have that glint in their eyes, they’re keeping up with my reasoning, and they do not like where it’s going.

“It seems to me, that these people are making an effort to cause as much pain and terror as possible. You read mum’s letters, the people in the affected regions are mad with fear that they’ll be next.”

Christopher swears, “So, we’re certain now that the things terrorizing villages are connected to the dark forces on the land.”

“Not quite certain,” I caution him, “We still can’t be sure of anything. Mum is bringing samples of their magic home, so we’ll be able to find out more. But my instinct says that’s the case. But there’s more to it than that. The literature indicates ghouls, especially in large packs, often have a master who supplies them with blood. I think, whoever or whatever revived that horrible magic, is also making these ghouls.”

“A vampire?”

“Or,” dad interjects, “another ghoul whose been keeping a vampire prisoner.”

“Do you really think that’s possible?” Christopher asks, a little awed and very unsettled, “Who do we know of who could be powerful enough to enslave a vampire?”

“It wouldn’t actually be very difficult,” says dad, “a long time ago, it wasn’t unusual for hunters to catch vampires and keep them alive for a time before killing them. Even our own family tortured vampires. We still have some of their spells and equipment in the Hold.”

Neither Christopher or I speak for a moment, too chilled to find our words.

“What about the man you saw through the mirror, Sol?”

I falter. “No progress there, I’m afraid.”

Dad steps forward and loops an arm around my shoulders, planting a hard kiss on my hair.

“You’re brilliant, son. I don’t say that enough. Every bit your mother’s boy.”

His tone is almost casual, but he’s wearing that smile that says he’s proud. Tired, but proud. Christopher gives me a knowing nod. He doesn’t share my concerns that mum and dad will be hurt by me not wanting to be a vanquisher.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can show them my mind is my greatest weapon. That will convince them, I’m sure.

“I’m going to speak to Greta first thing in the morning,” dad tells us, “I want you both there so we can catch her up on all this. And it’s time you boys attended your first council meeting.”

xxx

Alucard

Elle holds my hand, and keeps my cloak around her with the other. She keeps tripping over tree roots and dips in the path. If there even is a path.

We’ve been walking for nearly an hour. No one in our party carries a light, these ghouls must have begun their blood drinking some time ago for their senses to be this sharp. Between the pitch blackness and the forest growing denser the deeper we go, I can barely tell where we are anymore. It’s difficult to formulate an exit strategy when I can’t even see the sky from this position.

The men that have been surrounding us in tight formation since we left the monastery have begun to fan out, just enough that I can see a break in the trees ahead. A warm, red glow begins to spread through the thinning trees. Firelight.

We cross the tree line into a nearly silent camp. Actually, with a second look, this doesn’t appear to be a camp at all. Rather, a clearing with a handful of mercenary soldiers left to guard a massive tent erected at the center.

Unease creeps over my skin. Something foul is leaking out from the tent, filling the air with familiar dark magic. Elle can sense it, and holds tighter to me.

The leader, the ghoul who spoke to me in the courtyard, is the first of any of us to speak since we began this little journey.

“Inside,” is all he says, in his false baritone.

I slow my steps enough to give me another moment to catch any unseen threat, but nothing else makes itself known. No monsters on chains, waiting to be unleashed. No unseen vampires or mages, just ghouls. Nearly fifty of them, by my count. The company that escorted us here remains standing, blocking egress. But many others are huddled around meager, smoking fires. Nothing will burn properly after hours of rain.

Lightning flickers behind the clouds, and Elle and I enter the tent. The wind has picked up, and the woven walls shift with the suck of the air. It’s a bit disorienting, giving the effect that the space is moving.

The ghoul commander enters behind us and directs my attention to the only object in the tent— an enormous, gilt mirror propped against the center support post. The runes carved into the frame are consistent with transmission magic. It’s a distance mirror. But though its active, all I can see in the glass is the reflection of this room.

I’m a little taken aback by how small Adrielle looks at my side— how defenseless.

That same foul energy is pouring out of the mirror, the sheer concentration makes my head ache. Elle makes a tiny, unhappy sound and I squeeze her hand. I wish I could share my thoughts the way she can, I want so badly to tell her it will be alright. That I will not allow any harm to come to her. But now is not the time.

“You know what that is,” the commander states, “so, get going.”

“It seems someone has cloaked whatever is on the other side. I’d like to know what I’m walking into. I came quietly, please grant me this small favor. Where does this mirror lead?”

The man sneers, “Like I said, Master is waiting to speak with you. Didn’t tell me nothing about where you were going.”

He’s not lying. There is total disinterest in his manner. He couldn’t possibly care less about the outcome of his orders, as long as his master continues to feed his habit.

It hits me at once, there isn’t a way out. Strange that it should take so long to sink in. But I hadn’t been expecting this. I’d assumed that, whatever was waiting for us, we would not be leaving these foothills, or this region. But I have no way of knowing how far this mirror will take us. We could come out on the other side of the world.

“Go,” the ghoul orders.

I silently lift Elle into my arms, holding tight. As long as we’re together, I can ensure her safety. She takes my shirt in her little fist, knuckles turning white from the force of her grip.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, and step through the mirror.

Chapter Text

Trevor

Sypha,

There is a map drawn on the back of this letter. Turn your party toward the destination marked on it immediately. Or, you know, as soon as the sun rises. I’m not even sure what time it is as I write this.

Greta came banging on our door a short time ago. She was frantic, saying a dispatch from the mountain monastery had been mislaid for hours.

The abbot of that place wrote to say Alucard and Elle were abducted right out of the courtyard last night. By a company of ghouls. Poor old man, I think he was badly shaken, and didn’t know where to send his letter specifically. So, it was spelled to a clerk instead of us.

After speaking to Soleil, Greta believes the man Sol saw in the mirror may be the same man Elle reported meeting near the monastery yesterday. I’ll tell you the rest when we see each other.

I sent Christopher ahead of me to get up a search party, we’ll leave at dawn. I hope we’ll meet you and your students there.

All my love,

Trevor

xxx

Adrielle

We use distance mirrors all the time at home. It was scary on the first few goes, but I got used to it quickly. This mirror feels different. The magic is colder and sharper, stepping through is like jumping into the mountain lake in early spring. And just as unpleasant.

Tati enters the new place like crossing a threshold. There is no— liminal? I think that’s the word— no liminal space between. That must mean the spell on these mirrors is of a newer sort. The sort developed by our occult scholars in Belmont. It would be exciting to see that the work of our people has spread to new places, under any other circumstances.

As soon as we’re through, tati sets me on the floor so he is free to defend us, if need be. I don’t move from his side.

The first thing I notice is that there is a floor here. My boots touch smooth, stone tiles, not earth or grass. We’ve emerged into a cavernous chamber, with high walls and an arched ceiling I can hardly see in the low light. I can just make out the looming shapes of three, hulking coronas. Their candles are unlit, but I can smell the wax and smoke, as though they had been burning only moments ago.

I listen for the wind, but there is none. The room is so still my breathing is too loud in my own ears. What put out the candles? Are we alone, or are there others in here I can’t see.

There are tall, narrow windows set evenly in the longer, exterior walls. They must throw beautiful shafts of light when the sun is high. I think I can just make out the peaks of mountains in the far, far distance. The air smells of cedar and lilacs, so we’re probably still in Wallachia, but I can’t be sure.

If we are, we’re very far from home.

The storm doesn’t seem to have arrived here in full yet, and I can only see the mountaintops because the light of the full moon is not blocked by heavy clouds. The sea-foam light on the horizon suggests dawn will arrive soon.

This chamber is bitterly cold. The stale, wet air clings to my face and almost burns. It takes a moment to understand the stinging is not caused by the cold, but by that same ugly magic. The space is filled with it. My head is already pounding within seconds of arriving.

I’m close enough to tati that I feel his agitation spike when the mirror deactivates behind us, trapping us on this side. There is no way back. And we still don’t have any idea where we are. There is still the feeling of an active spell behind me, but I don’t turn to see what it is. If it was a threat, tati would have reacted to it.

I watch his face closely. He keeps his attention focused into the room. The only acknowledgment I get is a quick brush of the backs of his fingers across my cheek. I wonder if he can see or sense something in here that I can’t.

There is a single candelabra standing nearby the mirror. We have been wading in its pool of light, unwilling to move outside of it until we know what we’re facing. Those seven candles are the only light in this vast space.

My heart is racing, and I keep flinching because that horrible energy is still crawling all over me. I want to take tati’s hand again, but I don’t want to hinder his movement in case something happens. So, I rest my hand on my dagger instead.

“I’m told you wanted to speak with me,” tati says to whoever is probably watching us from the dark.

His usually mild voice has a sharp edge. The sound of it reverberates through the long room, setting my teeth on edge.

There is a soft noise at the far end of the chamber, like the rustling of fabric. My skin prickles and my stomach lurches. Deep beneath the stench of rotten magic, I catch the warm scent of a human. At least, I think I smell human. There’s something wrong about it.

“Well, are you going to tell me why I’ve been summoned here?”

A pop like someone snapping their fingers, and torches lining the long walls flare to life. The blaze is so intense at first that I have to cover my eyes. When at last the light calms to an ordinary burn, I blink hard and squint to take in the newly revealed room.

It’s much older than I thought it would be. The towering walls are stained dark from years of soot and exposure to the elements. The big, stone tiles that make up the floor are cracked. Or, have entire pieces missing that look like they may have been coats of arms, from the edges of carvings left behind.

Heavy, wooden beams cross the ceiling where banners and heraldry once hung. A few scraps of fabric and tapestry still remain.

We’re in an ancient castle! And this must have been its great hall. I peer over my shoulder to see the massive chamber doors are held fast with a spell. That is the lingering magic I felt when the mirror deactivated.

At the other end of the hall is a dais, on it stands a stately throne. It seems odd and out of place without any of the usual trappings of a court or great house.

On the throne sits what looks to be a man, legs crossed, fingers steepled. He leans forward enough for the light to hit his face, and my blood runs cold. I recognize the young man I met on the road only yesterday. His features appear more angular in the firelight, and there is a joyless smile on his thin mouth.

He almost seems to be working to appear disinterested, but there’s something in his posture that suggests otherwise. He’s coiled like a spring. I imagine I can see the glint of contempt in his eyes.

I take just a moment to close my eyes and push my focus beyond the thick walls, trying to see if I can catch any presences besides the three of us within the hall. But there is nothing. Could it be possible that he doesn’t have attendants or accomplices? That seems unlikely.

“Hello,” the man finally says in his smooth voice, “I’m Jun. Welcome to my castle.”

He’s grinning wider now, resting his elbows on his knees to lean in eagerly. This has all gone exactly to his plan, from my perspective. But there is still something uneasy in his look.

Tati subtly signals for me to get behind him. I do as instructed. Moving carefully so I won’t attract notice. But I don’t hide so far back that I can’t see what’s going on.

“Hello, Jun,” tati replies, voice measured but steely, “I am Alucard. Your men insisted you would speak with me.”

Jun’s face falls a little, like he was expecting more aggression or open displeasure.

“Yes,” he draws out the word like he’s gathering his thoughts, “I hope they weren’t too rough with you. They can be brutes.”

“Not at all. And now that I’m here, what can I do for you?”

At first, I can’t understand it. How is tati so calm? He’s speaking with that flat, exacting politeness I’ve heard him use on fuming council members back home.

Then, I see his intention. He’s trying not to anger this stranger. Tati isn’t sure if he’s dangerous, and we still don’t know why we’re here. Everything I wanted to tell him last night is bubbling up in my throat. I need to explain that this man made threats against him. Or, I think he did. The things Jun said were so vague, I don’t even clearly recall all of it.

But I do remember what Greta told me. I wish I could stop this. I don’t want tati to know anything about Jun, or the claims he made about who his parents were.

“Right to the point, I see. Very well. I’ve brought you and your girl here to bear witness.”

Tati’s efforts to avoid drawing attention to me seem to have failed. The leader of the ghouls did say Jun wanted both of us. I shrink further behind tati. My legs are shaking harder than ever. I rub the smooth face of my pendant between my fingers, just to have something to do with the hand that isn’t gripping my dagger.

“Witness to what?”

Incredulity is plain in his tone. I can imagine that this is one of the most ridiculous situations tati has ever found himself in. If not for me accidentally getting involved, he might even think it was funny.

“We’ll get there in a moment, but first, a question.”

Jun rises from the throne to stand at the edge of the dais steps, squaring his shoulders. His fists are clenched tight, even though he is still trying to affect indifference.

“Do you think of yourself as a hero?”

“No,” tati’s answer is mild and impassive.

“No?” Jun parrots, tone rising in false surprise, “You’re too modest. You saved your people, you built them a home. You gave them your knowledge.”

The undisguised sarcasm in his voice could curdle milk.

It sounds like tati is grinding his teeth with the effort of trying not to show his mounting irritation.

“Why am I here?”

Jun chuffs.

“I’d bet you’ve asked yourself that a lot, these last twenty years. Haven’t you, Adrian? Has it been hard? Waking every morning and facing the things you’ve done?”

Tati doesn’t respond, but the slightest shift in his stance tells me he’s beginning to lose his patience.

“Tell me,” Jun speaks slowly, “have you ever looked down at your hands, while you were holding your little daughter, and remembered what they felt like covered in blood? Does she know what you really are?”

“And what am I?” tati’s words are nearly a growl, low and menacing.

“Not a hero,” Jun sneers, “not a savior, and certainly not a good man. Hardly a man at all. What sort of man orphans a child and then styles himself a hero prince?”

I think tati is about to respond, probably to ask what the hell he’s on about. But Jun is lost in his thoughts and doesn’t let him speak.

“Do you even remember them? Or did taking their lives mean nothing to you. You, who promised to give them everything.”

There is a hitch in tati’s breathing, and in one instant, the aggravation he’s been working to hide evaporates. I can’t exactly feel what he feels, not like he can with me. But I can still detect the terror that sparks in him the moment he finally understands who he’s speaking with.

But what does he have to fear from this man? Jun is human…I think… and he can’t come from a powerful bloodline. His parents were only novice vampire-hunters. Tati’s reaction doesn’t make any sense to me.

“Who are you?”

The tiny waver in his voice is unnerving.

Jun’s dark eyes are full of disdain. He sniffs that superior, little laugh again, and speaks slowly and deliberately. Like he’s savoring this moment.

“As I said, my name is Jun— Junichi— of the Land of the Rising Sun.”

I have to pick through my brain to recall what that moniker refers to. I want to shout at him to speak plainly, but the stone lodged in my throat won’t allow any sound to come out.

“My mother and father came to you seeking aid. They wanted to bring our people the means to free ourselves from vampire tyranny. They would have been true heroes. But you killed them, didn’t you?”

I can’t see tati’s face clearly, but it seems like his entire body has gone slack with shock.

“Yes,” he says, voice so faint even I can barely hear him, “if you’re alluding to the twins who escaped the court of the vampire lord Cho, then yes, I killed them.”

He’s visibly shaking by the time he’s forced out all his words. I shut my eyes to keep the tears from falling. I wanted to be wrong. I had been hoping all night that, once I asked tati about it, he would tell me it wasn’t true.

But it is. That much is clear from the change in tati. He killed those people—Jun’s parents— but Jun doesn’t have the whole story. Or, does he simply not care that tati acted to defend himself? Would I care about that distinction, if I were Jun?

Something tells me he was expecting tati to be boastful in his confession, because it almost looks like the wind has gone right out of his sails.

He curses tati. Shouting the profanity as loud as he can, so that his voice breaks with the effort. We both flinch, and tati nearly draws back. Though Jun is still clear on the other side of the great hall.

I’m liking this less and less by the second. I’ve never known anything or anyone who could inspire this kind of fear in my father. I want to get us out of here. I want to flash out the windows and put as much distance as we can between us and this decaying castle.

“I had no idea they had a child, they never said…”

How can he be so nonchalant about a pair of twins having a child, at all? Regardless, this was apparently the wrong thing to say.

Jun is near bursting with rage. He clears the few dais steps in two strides and stomps down hard on the stone floor. An enormous alchemical array ignites, filling the entire space between us.

“Do you think that excuses everything? Do you think anything in the world could absolve you of what you did to them?”

The circle discharges waves of that same, disgusting magic. It’s so potent, so over-powering, I can’t see straight.

“It’s you,” I call over the rushing of air and energy, “you’re controlling the dark magic!”

Not only that. Jun is a ghoul. The stink of the magic masked it, but that must be what’s wrong with his scent. He doesn’t smell like a typical human because he no longer is one.

“That’s right, princess,” Jun spits, “it’s mine. It’s under my command.”

Well, that second part may be true. But there’s no way this magic comes from the man himself.

Tati finally glances over his shoulder at me, his eyes are full of something I can’t place. Regret? Dread? Tati’s never looked at me like that. He wishes I wasn’t here, that I hadn’t got caught up in this.

But mostly, he must fear what I’ll think of him now that I know he killed humans. He must believe I think they were innocent. We have to get out of here, I have to explain to him everything I think I know about what those people did. I have to tell him nothing could make me love him less.

“And now!” Jun crows, still trying to speak to me, though tati has moved fully between us, “Now, you and your father will watch as I unleash my weapon on your precious homeland.”

Now he’s started, there doesn’t appear to be an end in sight. We’re forced to stand here, helpless, while this stranger explains how he intends to ruin Wallachia.

“Every vampire living in your heretical fucking city will recall their true natures. They’ll tear their human neighbors to pieces, including the rest of those people you call your family. The night creatures will burn your farms, and feast on the women and children. Just as they were made to do. And then, the humans will turn on each other, as well. I will set everything back to its natural order. Your absurd, idyllic, little fantasy will finally come to an end.”

The circle flares painfully bright, it can feel its caster’s rage. Whatever spell he’s built, the magic in it can read his intentions. Power of this magnitude could absolutely do everything he said, and much, much worse.

Tati must understand this, too. He takes a careful step forward.

“Jun, please allow me the chance to explain.”

Tati is brilliant! For one blissful moment, the tension in my chest eases.

He may not want to have such an uncomfortable conversation. He will have to disclose all sorts of things I don’t think even our family knows about. But surely Jun will see reason as soon as he knows the whole truth.

“There is nothing you could say.”

“Perhaps, if you like, I could tell you about them. You must have been separated while you were still very young. I could tell you all I remember, if that would—”

“You think I want to hear about my parents from their murderer? You’re out of your mind!”

“Very well. What if I kill you right here? You’re alone, unprotected, and I can tell you have no real strength of your own.”

Jun’s ire is palpable, even through the rising wind and crackling magic from the circle. That observation has clearly enraged him.

“If you kill me, my men will turn the rest of my dark army loose on this country. They will slaughter everything they can get their hands on. And the spell will release anyway. You can’t stop this, Alucard.”

I peek out from behind tati to look at Jun properly. He looks more like a boy than a man, dwarfed by the vast hall. But the light of the circle casts his towering shadow all the way up the far wall, until it merges with the darkness of the ceiling. Jun’s shape melds with the shadows in every corner, until they seem to be pressing down on us.

Tati’s citrine eyes are blazing with a kind of fury I’ve never seen before. Beneath his outrage and lingering fear, there is a fiery determination that could cow the dragons of old.

His chin tilts down, like he wants to look back at me. I catch just a glimpse of his troubled expression. His lips are pressed together into a thin line, as though he wishes he could speak freely to me right now, but knows he can’t. Then, the steel returns to his eyes, and he steps forward.

I have only a moment to react, but it takes exactly that long to realize what he’s planning. Once tati has crossed into the circle, there’s nothing I can do.

There is a blinding flash of light. The circle erupts with such force that I’m thrown off my feet. I slam into the distance mirror, sending it crashing to the floor. The shards slice into my hands as I scramble upright, blinking to clear my vision.

The hall is dark. The blast blew out the torches, and all that remains to light the room is the flickering array and the first gleam of dawn. I hear him before I can see him properly. Not screams, but stifled sounds of pain and shallow gasping.

Tati is on his knees. His cloak has spread around him like an ink spill. It almost completely hides him from me. I don’t know when I started crying, but my face is suddenly wet with tears.

Jun begins to laugh, even as tati is struggling to get his breath. It isn’t like the cackling of evil-doers in plays, when the character thinks they’ve won the day. It’s a delighted giggling, like he can’t quite believe his luck.

“I never would’ve taken you for a fool!” he cries.

The room is much quieter now that the circle has fulfilled its purpose.

“But, God,” Jun sighs, regaining his composure, “I hoped you would be.”

Tati’s claws are scratching at the stone floor. It’s like he wants to get to his feet, but he can’t. I’m frantically trying to figure out what’s hurting him when Jun chuckles again.

“Are you beginning to get it, little girl? Your tati has just made his final mistake.”

xxx

Alucard

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst— it’s something my mother used to say.

I swallow my fear, regretting bitterly that I had let Elle see me like that, and step into the circle. I hope I can take the spell into myself, and dispose of it somewhere far away. Once it’s part of me, I can dissolve it and let the energy go somewhere it won’t hurt anyone.

At worst, the sheer power of the magic will kill me on contact. There isn’t really a way to prepare for that, I suppose. But if I can adhere it to me in time, the spell with die with me.

I’m determined that will not be the outcome. The caster is untrained, there must be a flaw in the equation somewhere that I can exploit to extinguish the magic.

I’ll be quick about it, and get back here as fast as I can. I won’t leave her alone with this demented magician for any longer than I have to.

But when I enter, the spell flares and locks down around me. For a few seconds, that feel as though the go on for an eternity, I am completely unable to move— held fast by the spell.

The energy stored up in the markings and symbols begins to creep towards me, snaking up my legs. As soon as it reaches my core, the circle ignites properly and I experience a pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

I bite down on my screams. I won’t give this man the satisfaction, and I do not want to frighten Elle. When the world comes back into hazy focus, I’m on my knees. My forehead is nearly pressed to the cold floor, so I can curl around the spell as tight as I can manage. So I can keep it contained.

I’ve severely miscalculated.

This working was never a magical firebomb, waiting to be flung at the world. It’s a corruption curse. And it was made for me.

The pain must be more disorienting than I realized, because I’m almost sure I can hear Jun’s voice speaking twice. In my ears, he’s cackling. If a banshee could laugh, this is what it would sound like. But in my mind, an echo that could almost be his voice. It whispers monstrous things to me.

“Your tati has just made his final mistake,” Jun jeers.

Ellie’s reedy voice calls to me, but she sounds so far away.

The curse slowly reveals to me what it was built to do. As it does, I begin to lose feeling in my limbs. A gentle mist fills my mind. For just a moment, it almost feels like falling asleep.

Then the rage of this disgusting magic makes itself known, as though there were hellfire burning under my ribs. It claws at the inside of me, trying to wrest control of my body. I will not allow it. I throw my will against the foreign power, bearing down on it with everything left in me.

This thing has already told me what will happen if I lose this struggle. Many will die. And my daughter will be first.

I have to get away from here. I have to get as far away as possible.

I fight to my feet and turn to Elle. As soon as I see her, hope kindling on her face, the curse flares and I’m nearly driven back to my knees with the pain.

She’s crying. I want to go to her, to comfort her, to tell her it will be alright soon. But I only have a few more seconds before my strength gives out.

Leaving her with this madman is the last thing I want to do if I cannot know when I will be able to come back for her. But I have no choice. I must go.

“Do not follow me,” I just barely get the command out before I trigger my own magic. My form fractures into a swarm of bats, and I flee out the high windows into the breaking dawn.

Chapter Text

Adrielle

The snapping of hundreds of frenzied wings is still ringing in my ears.

I stare out the windows, watching as the cloud of bats disappears. Everything is too still. The hall isn’t full of magic anymore. Scent, wind, sound, and sensation all seem to have gone out like candles when the array died. The damp, stale air makes my skin sticky and cold.

“I suppose I rushed that. Shame. Guess I got carried away,” Jun’s voice is calm and easy, but it still comes as a shock.

My dagger is heavy on my hip. Without moving, I turn my focus to it. I can feel the slight movement, it shifts back and forth just as I tell it to. I key in completely, connecting the weapon to my will. It’s seamless.

I don’t think I’ll be able to do much with it. I’ve never really had to fight anyone before. But at least I know my dagger works the way it’s meant to.

Be calm. I have to be big right now. I need answers.

What would tati do? Don’t provoke, and don’t show fear.

“I actually had a few more questions for him,” the amusement in Jun’s voice ratchets up as he speaks, “I honestly didn’t think he’d do it. I mean, I hoped…”

He trails off, slapping his palms against his thighs and scoffing like he’s impressed.

“For what?” I ask, my voice comes out small and creaky.

Making like he had forgotten I was even here, Jun affects a lazy attitude— hands on his hips, one knee cocked.

“What’s that? You’ll have to speak up.”

I do not allow my pitch to rise, and I hope my fear doesn’t show when I answer.

“For what were you hoping?” I have to tear my eyes from the windows and the sky beyond. The bats are gone, and I need to move quickly if I’m going to catch up to tati. Turning my attention to Jun, I will myself to be brave.

“Oh,” Jun says, pretending as hard as I am, “I correctly guessed Alucard would try to take the curse on. The unmitigated arrogance!”

“For what purpose?”

“Hmm?” he draws out the sound like he’s bored. He probably intends it to be mocking, but mostly it’s just annoying.

“You built that curse, yes?”

“Of course!”

“What was it designed to do?”

The defensive edge on his reply tells me plainly that he’s lying. He may have made small changes to the formula, but that was not his original work. I subtly look over the remains of the circle on the floor. There are symbols and characters I don’t recognize.

Jun grins like a cat, face lighting up. He really doesn’t need much encouragement.

“It’s designed to ruin him.”

He lets that pronouncement hang in the air. A chill creeps up my spine.

“Be more specific.”

“I told you already. If the magic was released, it would reawaken the basest impulses of monsters in this land. That part is true, I only lied about which monster it was intended for.”

“You knew he would try to neutralize the spell—”

“Anything to maintain the world he built where he is master.”

I have to breathe out the spike of rage. Don’t get distracted.

“Now that he’s got it, what is it meant to do?”

“It’s a corruption curse. Ruinously effective— I’ve been testing it on lesser vampires for months. He might be half human, but he’s stronger than most of your kind. I wasn’t sure it would work!” the grin on Jun's face is growing more manic with every word, “Alucard will seek out and slaughter every human he can find, nothing will slake his bloodlust. He’s been allowed to pretend to be above his deepest desires for too long. None of us can escape what we are. And his true nature will be his undoing. Alucard will tear this country apart with his own hands. They’ll see what he really is.”

“How do I stop it?”

Even if there is a way, I doubt he’ll share it. But I have to be sure.

Jun barks a laugh and pushes his hair back, “What? You think there’s a lever you can pull to turn off a corruption curse?”

“Not necessarily. But did you have a way to power down the spell in case something went wrong?”

“What a ridiculous question.”

I thought not. This isn’t his magic. There may be a fail-safe built in, but Jun just never found it.

I swallow around the stone in my throat and ask what I need to know most, “How long does he have?”

Jun hums in a satisfied sort of way, long and contented, “When I’ve finished with him, or when his body simply gives out…”

He lets his words drop off, unearned fangs clear behind his delighted smile.

“But by then, there will be nothing left of him. He may have delayed the first part of my plan by leaving you alive, for now. But no one in your city, or its territories, will want anything to do with Alucard once word gets out of what he’s done. He will destroy himself. As a man, as a leader, and a figure of myth— all in one go. And I won’t even have to lift a finger to achieve it. I get to sit back and watch.”

I can’t tell if he’s truly out of his mind, or just unreasonably pleased with himself.

Either way, he’s dead wrong.

Tati’s choice had nothing to do with wanting to hold onto power and influence. He’s never cared about that sort of thing. And he’s never felt the same kind of need for blood that true vampires do.

And he’s certainly hasn’t spent his life suppressing an urge for violence. If that were the truth, this scheme would not have required corruption magic.

So, what would a curse like this do to someone who does not actually want what it tells them to— even deep down? Surely, it cannot reawaken instincts that were never there. The same way magic cannot create love where none exists, it cannot fabricate true hate where it never was.

Tati will be able to resist. I know it!

I have to find him. We can make our way home, and the others will help us come up with a plan. First, we’ll save tati. Then, we’ll stop Jun.

It’s a little odd to feel a smile pull on my lips, but I let it come.

“You’ve underestimated the strength of his will. And his goodness. My father isn’t a monster, no matter how much you want him to be.”

It lightens my heart to say it out loud.

Jun looks like he’s about to speak, but I don’t let him.

“Nor has he ever said he was a hero, or a savior. He’s just a good person.”

“A good person who murdered innocents and left a little boy all alone in the world? Please, feel free to explain to me how that’s possible,” a sadness edges out the conceit in his voice, “Do you know what happened to them? Did he ever tell you?”

I open my mouth, ready to tell him everything I think I know about his parents. But the words don’t come.

“It isn’t my story to tell.”

I cross the room and leap onto the windowsill, taking one last look at Jun. In the cold light of the morning, it’s obvious he’s barely older than Christopher. He can’t be more than one-and-twenty. Which would mean he never really knew his mother and father at all. It’s suddenly difficult to see him as anything other than a boy far out of his depth. Absolutely a threat, but not the monster he seems to think he is.

For just a moment, I let myself sympathize with this stranger, despite his frightening promises. What a terrible emptiness he must feel.

I swing myself down from the sill and start to make my way out of the grounds of this rotting castle. East, towards unfamiliar mountains.

xxx

Jun

The girl climbs out the window and down into the garden.

I planned on getting to watch this. Oh, well— the best laid schemes. I’ll have to settle for my men retrieving her body when it’s done. If there’s enough left to pick up the pieces.

I’m still hopeful I might get to see his face in the moment he realizes what he’s done. I’ll have to devise a way.

xxx

Christopher

“Two minutes!” dad shouts.

The members of our search party weren’t exactly moving slow, but they pick up the pace as soon as they hear the order.

I tighten the girth on my saddle and make sure my gear is secured. My horse, an excitable gelding, tosses his head and paws the ground. Stroking his neck, I look around the stable yard. The party, made up of city guards and some of dad’s older students, are all murmuring to each other under their breath.

It isn’t every day you’re called from your bed and told one of your city heads has gone missing.

Soleil is standing near the stable doors, trying not to get in the way. I have to dodge around a horse and rider as I approach.

“What are you doing down here?”

“Here,” he says, handing me a slip of paper wrapped around a dowel, “in case you get into any trouble.”

I recognize the transmission spell scroll, Sol has made dozens for us whenever we go out on patrol.

“Thanks. Listen, I’ve got to go in a minute, but I think you should talk to dad when we get back.”

He sighs and his shoulders slump, “How long have you known?”

I grin at him, refusing to allow things to get tense, “Come on, you could never keep anything from me, even when we were kids. You never have to.”

“I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You won’t. He’s never been like that.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you, either.”

I snort and throw an arm around my brother’s shoulders, “Not fucking likely!”

Soleil laughs and leans against me. It’s good to see him actually smile.

“I didn’t know if you’d understand.”

“I don’t have to understand to be on your side. And I am,” I jab a knuckle into his ribs, making him squawk, “You got that?”

“I got it.”

He walks with me back to my horse.

“Do you want me to be there when you talk to mum and dad? Moral support, or something?”

Sol considers this, eyes on the ground.

“Actually, yeah, that would be nice.”

“Good. We’ll make a plan when I get back.”

I climb into the saddle just as dad gives the order to move out. We both watch him, more than a little struck.

“I don’t often get to see him like this,” Soleil says, “a hunter, a leader of men.”

I can tell he’s trying to get lost in his thoughts, as usual. I ruffle his fluffy hair, and he swats at me and tells me to shove off.

“Yeah, dad’s a great man. But you don’t have to be like him to be a great man, too.”

Soleil gives me that look like he’s not completely sure I’m right, but nods and steps back as my horse begins plunging. He’s eager to join the others.

In a weird way, I’m calmer than I’ve been for weeks. Finally, I can actually do something useful— put my training into action. And with dad leading the search, there isn’t much we can’t handle.

“See you in a few days.”

“Promise you’ll bring them home?”

“I promise.”

xxx

Adrielle

From a distance, Jun’s castle is little more than a shell. Most of the walls are cracked or crumbling. There’s the stump of a tower on the west side that may have been the keep. The creeping forest has reclaimed most of the out buildings.

The great hall is the only part of the structure with all four walls still standing. Unless there are intact spaces below ground, I can’t imagine how it could be a base of any kind.

I don’t recognize this place at all. As far as I can tell, I’m still in Wallachia. But I’m nowhere near Belmont. The land here is harsh and craggy, with scrubby plants that I can’t exactly call greenery— because most of its brown or grey. I very quickly have to abandon my cloak because it keeps snagging on branches and gnarled roots.

I race the incoming storm eastward. There is no physical trail to follow, so I’m left to rely on scent and the energies in the air. But this entire place is thick with that vile magic, I can’t tell it apart from the curse. So, it’s a good thing ethereal bats smell almost as bad as real ones.

My senses aren’t as sharp as a vampire’s. I keep losing the trail. As soon as I’m beyond the castle grounds and into the wilderness, I’m unsettled by just how little life there is out here. The thin forest is nearly silent, and I can’t detect even small animals anywhere nearby. The dark magic must be driving out all the living things, and smothering what can’t flee.

But there are signs of the humans who once lived here. I get stuck trying to find a way across wide quarries, and there’s a tall dam that crosses the river. I’m already out of breath by the time I reach the long-forgotten farms at the base of the mountains. There’s almost nothing left of them except a couple of crumbling walls where stone barns once stood, and over-grown fields trimmed by rotted fences.

This is what the old Belmont estate would look like by now, if the castle had never been brought to it. Most of Wallachia would look like this now, if the war had continued. But this place was abandoned long before I was born.

There is a cracking noise further down this shallow valley, it rings out like cannon fire. I head towards it at full speed. I’m far enough from the source of the corrupt magic now that I can almost tell it apart from the other energies on the land. And there is a concentration of something dark not far ahead of me.

The woods are denser out here. I slip back between the trees and find myself on a path of freshly splintered trunks. They are all leaning away from me, as if something had blown through with immense force. The wet earth, which probably hasn’t felt the sun since these evergreens grew tall, dips in places as if it’s been carved out.

Some of the trees have gouges in them, like claw marks. Deep enough to expose the soft inner wood. Sap runs from the gashes.

The ugly magic gets thicker and that sharp pain in my temples returns. The path of smashed trees goes on for a long time. There are more ditches in the earth that keep tripping me, and the eerie silence presses in from everywhere.

My heart is pounding and my skin is clammy. My legs are heavy with a kind of dread I’ve never experienced before, I feel like I should turn back. This was a bad idea. I’m not safe in these woods.

I argue with myself that it doesn’t make sense to be afraid. Tati would never hurt me. I’m better off out here with him than back at the castle ruins. We just have to find our way home. Then my family will put everything right.

Auntie Sypha and the other magic scholars will figure out a way to fix this. I only have to get us home.

Finally, I find a break in the trees. A small patch of earth shaded by a high, leafy ceiling, only a few feet wide. Tati stands just on the other side, facing away from me, bracing himself up on a sturdy trunk. He can’t catch his breath. He’s barely able to keep himself upright. The energies swirling in this confined clearing make my head spin and my legs shake.

Just then, it becomes real to me that he’s the one who cracked all those old pines. I shouldn’t be here.

“Tati.”

He goes completely still. When he glances over his shoulder at me, the motion looks wrong. It’s too slow and calculated. He doesn’t really acknowledge my presence.

Instead, he fixes his gaze on me. For the space of only a few heartbeats, I stand frozen in place as I’m regarded by eyes that don’t know me.

I should not have come out here.

I don’t realize I’ve moved until my elbow hits the ground and pain sparks along my arm. I’m up and moving in an instant, very aware of my pursuer on my heels.

Tati attacked me. He swiped at me and I had only a second to get out of the way before his claws would’ve slashed clean through my face.

I’m running as fast as I can, but it’s only just fast enough to keep out of reach. Tati makes no sound. No growls, or hisses, I can barely hear footfalls behind me. I only feel a powerful force like a wave at my back.

There isn’t time to think. The forest opens out into fields that we cross in less time than it takes to blink. I’m swallowed and spit out by woods over and over, until the trees give way at the foot of the mountain.

I scramble over the first boulders just before they explode behind me with the force of his blow. The path upward is thin and winding. My feet slip on the loose, wet dirt. When did it start to rain?

Another swipe. His claws just brush through the ends of my hair. But I’m slightly too fast for him to grab hold. My limbs are quickly going numb and my chest burns like I swallowed a branding iron.

He doesn’t respond when I try to speak to him. Can’t he hear me? Not even my telepathic voice can get through. Which means my own magic can’t penetrate the curse. I’m powerless.

Walls of rock rise on either side of us. I’m not going to be able to keep up a flat-out chase. But maybe if I could get back to the forest, I could lose him in the trees. The rain makes the rock slick and difficult to climb. My dripping hair keeps sticking to my face and getting in my eyes.

There is pain above my ankle, and the warmth of blood soaking my stocking. I don’t look back to see what cut me. Pulling myself out of the quarry, I hurry to get my legs under me before he can try to grab me again.

He still won’t talk to me. He hisses for the first time when I scream back at him to please stop. He can hear me.

There are hardly any trees up here. There are only large rocks, dead shrubbery, and open fields. I flash away again.

Far in the distance, across another few miles, I can see the tops of pines below the curve of this hill. If I can reach them, I can hide there while I make my way over the eastern mountain range. I still don’t know where I am, but that doesn’t matter. I have to get away.

Its only as the strength in my legs starts to wane that I realize I’m being hunted. Not simply chased. But run down to the point of exhaustion. I want to flash again, but it won’t come. I don’t have enough left in me to use my powers. My heart is near bursting, not just from excursion. There is an icy terror in my veins.

I’m being hunted like prey. I should not have left the ruined castle.

He knows I can’t go much further. He’s slowed down enough to follow from a greater distance, no longer needing to stay at my heels. I’m forced to stop when I crest the hill and see that it’s a sheer drop instead of another gentle slope. The tree line and the protection it offers is on the other side of another quarry. There’s no way to get across. I’m too tired.

I tear through my brain, desperately searching for something— anything— that might get through.

Jun's words come back to me, “He may have delayed the first part of my plan by leaving you alive, for now. But no one in your city, or its territories, will want anything to do with Alucard once word gets out of what he’s done.”

When Jun said he planned for aimless destruction and mass slaughter of humans, I didn’t consider it might also have specific directives besides that.

It wants me. Its telling tati he wants to kill me. Jun probably intends word of my death to be the first to reach Belmont. The first blow. What would that news do to our family? Will they still come to tati’s rescue if I don’t make it home? Do they even know we were taken?

I have to get through to him. I have to make tati see me. If I die, what happens to him? If we’re separated all the way out here in foreign country and I go back for help, will we be able to find tati in time?

He fought control away from the curse back in the great hall, I saw it. He can do it again. I just have to break through, somehow.

When I was new, I had to touch tati in order to transfer a thought to him. Maybe that’s the answer! If I can touch him, it might amplify my inner voice enough for him to hear it.

I turn to face him. As soon as I do, he stops his advance. Only a few seconds have passed since I climbed up the stone wall. He waits, face impassive and posture stiff. I take a few steps forward on wobbly legs.

His chin lowers as I approach and I have to fight through the rising panic to keep moving. This isn’t my tati. The closer I get, the clearer that becomes. But I know I can get through. I know Jun was wrong.

“Tati, we have to go home.”

He’s letting me get in close. That has to be a sign he knows me, in his heart.

I reach out and brush my fingertips over the back of his hand. Being this close to the curse makes me nauseous. How is he able to stand it?

I don’t notice him move. Long fingers clamp around my throat, his claws cut deep. The edges of my vision begin to blur within seconds. I don’t have time to call my dagger from my hip.

I shouldn’t have come after him. This isn’t tati anymore. I should have listened.

My legs kick empty air. He’s lifted me off my feet, holding me easily in one hand like a rag doll. I claw feebly at his arm, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. Blood is soaking my clothes— warm, even in the cool rain.

I can’t speak. I can’t feel my body. I can’t see anymore. I can’t breathe.

Chapter Text

Trevor

“Anything?”

Sypha slows to let me catch up. The track up here is thin and crumbling, we have to watch our step.

“Nothing,” she sighs, hands on her hips, “you?”

“Just about the same. A couple of your students thought they picked up traces of magic by the river, but it lead nowhere.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

I hum agreement, “You’d think between soldiers and magicians we would’ve found something by now.”

We take in the view of the old monastery and woods below the mountain foot path. The dark clouds and mist make it difficult to see very far.

“How could they have just vanished? There wasn’t even a trail out of that camp.”

“And this whole place reeks of that fucked up magic. Even I can feel it.”

“So, they must have been taken elsewhere,” Sypha rubs her temples and groans, “I can barely keep track of this. We know now that the rising dark magic is connected with whoever took Elle and Alucard, but what good does that do us?”

“I know. I wish we had more information to go off of. Like, where we might start looking for that guy Sol heard through the mirror. But we’ve been in tight spots before.”

I slide an arm around her and she does the same.

“Yes, but they’ve been missing for almost three days already. And Elle is just so little.”

I tighten my hold on Sypha and rest my head on hers, “She’s little, but she’s tough. They’ll be fine. At least they’re together, Alucard will keep her safe.”

The wind is even harsher up here, and the clouds are hanging lower now. Thunder rolls in the distance.

“Come on, we should get back.”

She takes my hand and we pick our way back down the path.

“Speaking of Sol, has he spoken to you yet?”

I scratch through my hair, “Not yet.”

“And you’re sure we shouldn’t just ask him about it?”

“Nah, he’s got to figure this out for himself. I think he already has. Am I right?”

“You are. If I’m honest, I was so happy when he told me he didn’t want to be a vanquisher,” Sypha says, “and not just because I already have one son risking his life. But Soleil choosing a different path is proof we raised him well. There is more to our boys than just the Belmont legacy. They are also descended from Speakers. And they are their own people.”

I sigh and tip my head back to let the light rain wet my face.

“I’ve been thinking, maybe I pushed the whole only-heirs-to-the-house-of-Belmont thing a little too hard. It’s just that Christopher took to the training so readily, I guess I assumed Soleil would too. And I wanted them to be able to defend themselves. Peace doesn’t last forever.”

“Your family weren’t all hunters, either. They were also scholars, and community builders. That’s what Soleil wants, to be a keeper of knowledge.”

I squeeze Sypha’s hand, “And he’ll be great at it.”

“And Christopher? God, I’ve been away from home for so much of the year, I feel a little out of touch.”

“Chris is fine. Better now that he has something to do.”

“Are you sure it was a good idea to bring him out here? We don’t know what we’re going to find.”

“He wouldn’t hear no. And he was ready to chew off his leg back in the city, just to have a place to focus his energy. You know how anxious he’s been since this started.”

She considers this.

“It seems this mess has touched our family in more ways than one.”

xxx

Alucard

As soon as I was in the air, I recognized the shape of the mountain range and understood I was not far from refuge— of a kind. If I was correct, my father’s castle once stood on the other side of that range. When it was transported to the old estate, its below-ground spaces were left behind, as they were not an essential part of the structures.

One of them, if memory served, was a storeroom for magical objects and spell-work ingredients. I hoped, there, I might find something to help.

I had no choice but to leave Elle behind with Jun, and the anxiety gnawed at me, even as I was over come again and again by the curse.

Now, I fight against the leaden weight in my limbs, working to keep control. Over and over I’m pulled down, and I feel my body move of its own accord. Though I still see out through my eyes, I’ve become a passenger within my own flesh.

Persuasive magics often have pain clauses built in. Designed to ware down the host by degrees, the harder they resist the magic’s influence. Until now, I would have thought of myself as being fairly tolerant of pain. Mostly because I have little to fear from it. I am much less fragile than a human, or even new vampires, and the assurance any injury sustained will not kill me makes ignoring any discomfort that much easier.

But this is something entirely different. The superseding of my consciousness leaves me with nothing but the pain when I’m pulled under. It’s as though I am floating beneath a boiling sea, there is white-hot pain everywhere, soaking through me.

I’ve hardly gone three miles from the ruins— and Elle— when I’m again overcome. My shape reforms, coalescing from a flock of bats, but I can’t regain full control in time to stop myself from falling.

I crash out of the air into the forest. The force of the impact is enough to shock me back into my body, and I instantly begin working to subdue the curse. It digs its talons into me from the inside. I throw my own will back against it, determined that I shall not be conquered.

Every few seconds, creeping numbness pushes my consciousness further back so the curse can pilot my body. The jolt of colliding with the trees had sufficed to bring me back to myself, and struggling against the curse becomes more and more physical as I have to repeatedly abort its efforts. I am thrown against broad, rough trunks and the damp earth until my shoulders protest and my head throbs. But it’s enough.

All I have to do is cross these mountains. The old castle grounds are far from everything, there are no settlements or roads anywhere near it. That I know of. There, away from people, I won’t be as much of a threat. As long as I can keep control of myself.

I am granted a few moments of relief as the corrupted magic quiets. I know it won’t last, I must keep moving, but I’m forced to pause again to rest. At the very least, I do so on my feet.

My fingertips press into the cracked bark of the old pine which bares me up. Its texture is all I can use to ground myself, as I’m unwilling to move much just yet, in case I should cause a resurgence before I’ve got my strength back. I draw in my breath, long and slow, leaning all my weight against the tree. My legs are shaking, and my skin pricks with the sensation of unwelcome magic slithering beneath.

I try to take in my surroundings, to focus on something other than my rising unease. I’ve come to a small break in the trees, the heavy canopy doesn’t allow much light to penetrate, and the cool air is thick with the scent of rain and wood.

My head is spinning, blood pounding so hard in my ears that I don’t notice her approach until it’s too late. A small, bitter smile tugs my lips. I should’ve known she would follow me.

In the very same moment I feel her behind me, the curse surges to life again. Sheer panic takes hold as I’m dragged down, I hear the curse’s whispering voice demanding blood. It happens so fast that I don’t have time to react.

Distantly, I feel my limbs move. My claws are extended, but I don’t connect with anything. Thank god.

I fight against the magic’s hold with everything I have, frantic to regain control before Elle can be harmed. The curse roars in my veins, incensed that I would interrupt the fun of the chase with resisting. The pain bites deeper the harder I struggle, but I don’t care.

She speaks to me, calling me, entreating me to recognize her and stop my attack. Her voice pulls me toward the surface and I have the sense that I’ve lost time. My body is still moving, the spark of the chase still crackling in my chest. I will run her down. I wonder what it will feel like to catch her, to see the realization dawn on her face that she is about to die.

We’re deeper into the mountains now, up on a flat plain. There’s no cover here, nowhere for Elle to hide. She seems to realize this and stops running.

I try to call to her, to beg her to flee, but my voice cannot escape. We’re facing each other across only a few meters. Elle steps forward, reaching out her little hand. For just a moment, I’m able to pull myself closer to the outside, nearly able to feel my limbs properly again. I reach for my daughter, I have to regain control, I have to—

The pain erupts and I’m wrenched back down into the dark. There is again that feeling that I’ve lost a little time, and when I come to, I have Elle by the throat. My claws have cut deep, her blood runs hot over my fingers. I feel her pulse down my arm.

Without thinking, driven by maddening terror, I throw my will against the curse’s hold, desperate to access my power. My efforts are effective, and I’m able to take hold of my own magic just long enough to push it through my body and wrest control.

The strain is immense, and the blistering heat within me only gets worse as the world becomes clear around me again. The curse rages, crashing against the inside of my body over and over. I’ve let go of Elle, that’s all that matters. I think I’ve pressed my hands over my eyes, the stabbing in my head makes the world spin and I feel I may be sick.

Another wave of dark influence through my limbs. Fearing they may betray me again, I bite deep into my forearm. The sear of tearing flesh is enough to keep me grounded for the moment.

I have to go, I can’t be anywhere near her. The curse calls for her blood, it demands I kill my daughter. I’m no longer sure exactly where we are, but it doesn’t matter. I flee, hoping in the back of my addled mind that Ellie can find her way to safety without me. Praying that I let go of her in time.

xxx

Christopher

I drop onto the bench, resting my head on the worn wood of the table. The Priory dining hall that had been our base the last three days is finally empty, and the search party is almost ready to begin the journey home to Belmont.

I just need a moment to myself. When Dad told me last night that we have to go back, I could’ve screamed at him. I wanted to ask if he’d lost his mind. We aren’t any closer to finding them. But I saw the pain in his face as he explained how Auntie Greta had sent word of more trouble at home— the freaks mum was tracking are nearing the city with their monster horde— and we’re needed.

Someone puts a gentle hand on my shoulder. I look up into my mother’s face, creased with anxiety. I probably don’t look much better.

“Your father gave the order to move out, I told him we would be along shortly. We can take a minute alone.”

“Thank you,” I sound like an exhausted child, even to my own ears.

Mum sits beside me and rubs my back for a little while.

“A whole squad of hunters, and half a dozen magicians, and we still couldn’t find any trace of them.”

She nods solemnly.

“That’s bad,” I can’t think of what else to say. Or, I can’t make myself say what I’m afraid of. I can’t imagine losing Elle and Alucard. Sol and I are too young to start losing family.

“I sent word to other sorcerers in the old capital, and two bands of Speakers are on their way. No one is giving up.”

Mum strokes my hair and I lift my cheek from the splintery, old table. At least we aren’t leaving empty-handed. At least we can be sure whatever took Alucard and Elle is connected to the dark magic and vampire attacks. According to the mages, the magic lingering in this place makes that irrefutable. Find one, find the other. I’m so worn out, I can’t keep it all straight in my head anymore.

We stand and mum gives me a thin smile, “You’re handling all of this well. I wish you didn’t have to, but I’m proud of you all the same.”

I kiss her forehead and we leave the dining hall. The sky is heavy with storm clouds, and the air is so full of that foul energy it stings my face. Our horses can sense it, and they toss their heads nervously.

“It’s like someone opened a flood-gate,” I say, “it’s making me light-headed.”

“Yes, something has definitely changed. Come, we need to catch up with the others. I don’t want to get separated when that storm hits.”

Seems to me like it already has.

xxx

Violet

Another distant crash, but close enough to make the schoolhouse walls shake, dust spilling from the rafters. A window behind me cracks, raining shards onto the floor. The children cry out, huddling close to their seatmates under their work benches.

I couldn’t tell if the sound was the explosion of a night creature’s attack, or a magician’s spell, or a building coming down. I can’t make sense of what I’m hearing over the children’s weeping.

There’s a steady rapping on the front door, and I have a moment of horror believing it’s those ghoul people the council warned of, come to eat us.

Then, my love’s voice calls my name, and I scramble to my feet and unlatch the door.

Greta pulls me to her before I can get one word out. Some of the children see their city headwoman and breathe a deep sigh of relief.

“Thank god, you’re alright,” she whispers into my shoulder.

I pull away to look into her face, “What is it?”

“Just night creatures, but a lot of them. I’m taking you lot up to the castle. Come on, kids,” Greta calls over my head, “we’re going somewhere safe.”

xxx

Soleil

The great hall is chaos. The guards have brought as many people as they could from the neighborhoods that were affected by the attack, and more are still trickling in. Most of the farmers and their families from beyond the city walls are here, and Greta has finally returned with Aunt Violet and the younger schoolchildren.

I’m stood at the mouth of one of the corridors, watching the fray. My feet are rooted to the spot, I want to help somehow, but I can’t seem to decide where to go. People on stretchers and cots are lined up along the wall beside me, there is an older man with white hair in a bloody tunic who sits with his back to the wall, hands folded in his lap.

His expression is what gets my attention. He’s staring off into the middle distance, eyes hooded and swollen from crying. His arm is still bleeding.

“Sir,” I say gently, kneeling before him, “is there anything I can do for you?”

It takes some time for him to fully notice me. When he does, his eyes fill with fresh tears.

“I still remember,” he says in a creaky voice, “when the hordes came, all those years ago. And when Lord Alucard and Madame Headwoman brought us here, to keep us safe.”

His eyes wander the hall, picturing it as it was twenty years ago.

“It must have been so terrible for you. But we’re safe here. Nothing like that will ever happen again,” I place my hand over his, they’re rough from years of work, steady and strong, “all of this will be over soon.”

He watches me, I can tell he wants to believe what I say, but there is a fear that lingers with the older generations. It never lets them drop their guard, or plan too far into the future.

“Why don’t I get you something to drink, then I’ll have a look at your arm.”

When the old man is sipping carefully from his bowl of water, I slowly tear away the rest of his shredded sleeve and do my best to clean the wound. While I work, I keep glancing behind me, thinking I hear Chris’ voice, or my parents. But I know they haven’t returned to the city yet. I’m glad they weren’t caught up in this.

Once the blood has been sponged away, it isn’t as bad as I’d feared. A clean slice through the bicep, thankfully, none of the blood vessels were damaged. I don’t know how to sew wounds like mum, but I bandage the man’s arm as best I can and make a sling from the torn sleeve. It will have to do until one of the healers can see to him.

By the time I’m finished, the man’s eyes are a little clearer and he’s talking to me about his farm and the good time he and his friends had at the tavern last month. That feeling of helplessness is gone, and I’m surprised to find myself more relaxed and focused than I have been for days.

When my new friend says he’d like to try to rest a while, I make my way through the throngs of people to the healer directing the medical teams, and ask to be put to work.

She appraises me with a skeptical eye.

“I have a good knowledge of anatomy, and I know the basics of nursing from my mother, Sypha— she’s the Speaker on the Belmont council. Please, let me help. I know I can be useful.”

The healer raises a brow, like she’s impressed, “Alright, go to station three, the mage in charge will let you know what he needs.”

“Thank you.”

xxx

Alucard

My legs burn and my chest constricts with every panting breath. I don’t have enough strength left in me to flash or fly, but they’re closing in fast and I don’t know how much further I can run.

Ghouls— turned loose into a valley inhabited by humans.

When I fled the mountain plateau, I bolted flat out, as far as I could manage. The curse flared and subsided as if with intension, wearing down my resistance like a battering ram. Each time it reached for control, I would scratch at my arms or throw my body against anything that I thought could withstand the force. The self-inflicted, external pain of the wounds or cracking bones helped me to remain in control, it quickly proved the only reliable way to keep ownership of myself.

Unable to get above the tree canopy, and unsure of where I was, I stumbled blindly into the human’s valley. The ghouls where lying in wait for sundown, but altered their plans as soon as they caught my scent. I suppose a weakened vampire makes for more satisfying prey than human farmers.

That was more than a day ago. They chased me through the night, backing off only long enough to regroup and circle around to come at me from another direction. When the sun rose, I knew where I was, at last. My choice of direction, made in the fear of the moment, was correct. And I’m now only a few miles from the old castle grounds.

But night has come again, and I have barely anything left in me. I’m nearly at my limit. In truth, I fear I may have already crossed my threshold hours ago, and am now only carried forward by adrenaline.

My lungs won’t fill properly, and my eyes sting from the whip of the cold mountain wind and pelting rain. Distantly, I hear the whoops and excited cries of the ghouls. Their endurance nearly matches that of a younger vampire at its full strength. Even my dhampir blood would sate their need. Though, these creatures are so far gone that any blood might do for them.

It is an inconceivably cruel fate, to be corrupted in that way. To lose oneself utterly to bloodlust and instinct. There probably isn’t anything left of who they used to be.

They’re nearly upon me now, I can hear two of the lighter members of the hunting party running parallel with me. If they intend to herd me off my path, there won’t be much I can do to stop it. There are at least four others somewhere behind us, hidden in the dark of the forest.

The ghoul to my left banks and slams into me. We all but fly off course. Even compromised as I am, I’m still able to keep up a good deal of speed, and our momentum throws us a considerable distance. My back connects hard with the drenched forest floor. The ghoul— a young woman— and the other forerunner pin me down in an instant.

Her jaws, filled with jagged teeth— a testament to just how long she’s been in this state— snap wildly only inches from my face. I’m trying to hold her back, but her companion is pulling at my arms to hold them down.

The curse flares again as an oily, familiar terror creeps over my damp skin. The weight of another person restraining me, the rush of breath on my face, two pairs of hands on me.

Now it isn’t only the fatigue of the chase making it impossible to breathe. The feel of steel cables beneath my clothes isn’t real. I know it isn’t. Yet it seems to tighten over my chest and legs.

“Hold him!” another ghoul shouts to my captors as the rest of their party arrives.

“I am,” screeches the girl on top of me, drawing a knife from her belt and pressing the cutting edge to my neck. God, she can’t be much older than Soleil.

More hands drag me half onto my feet and the curse pushes against the inside of my rib cage, roaring for blood. My vision begins to blur again, and I can just feel the numbness come back to my limbs. The man who gave the order grabs a fistful of my hair and wrenches my head back, sinking his teeth into my throat.

The stench of his breath and press of his grizzled cheek under my jaw make me ill. Nausea sits heavy on the back of my tongue and I try to jerk away, but the last of my strength is fast leeching out of me, leaving leaden exhaustion in its place.

The other ghouls jeer and champ their teeth, eagerly awaiting their turn with me. Without warning, I’m shoved back to the ground, forced to rest on my knees for a moment while the man spits and curses. I work to focus my blurry eyes on my hands, palms pressed into the dirt to hold me as upright as I can get. Blood drips onto the back of my hands from the wound at my neck. It will not heal, just like the gashes I made in my arms.

“What’s wrong with him?” hisses the bastard who bit me, as if his friends would know, “It’s like drinking acid!”

There is a general bemoaning of the time they’ve wasted hunting someone they can’t eat, before I snatch the knife from the girl’s hand and partially remove the leader’s jaw with one slash.

My awareness fades in and out, the curse grappling for control, filling my veins and focusing my mind. I know I have to get away from here, but I keep forgetting why. My awareness narrows to this tight space between the pines, and the five ghouls snarling at me.

Within seconds, two more are dead. These parasites made their last mistake when they targeted me. The warmth of their blood thaws my chilled fingers, the girl screams almost prettily before I carve out her throat with my nails.

The shedding of blood brings such sweet relief. The curse relaxing its grip as I finally give it what it wants. But I can’t allow it to take hold. No matter the cost to me, I cannot allow myself to be completely overcome.

I fight within myself while I face the last of the hunting party. Dropping my guard, with enormous effort, I let them land a few blows. The pain is negligible in comparison to everything my body has endured these last few days, but it’s enough to help me compose myself.

When I’m again in control, the ghouls lay dead at my feet. My ravaged body strains to taste their blood. I haven’t allowed myself to feed for days, hoping against hope that keeping my body weak would make it harder to puppet.

My torn throat burns and my stomach cramps horribly, but I hardly register it behind the rekindling pain of resisting the curse. My blood boils and there is a sensation like knives in my back each time I draw breath. I turn my face up into the sheeting rain and let it wash my face. My arms are folded tight across my chest, as if I could squeeze the dark magic out of me.

I’m suddenly very aware of how alone I am in this place. There isn’t another soul for many miles— ideal, given my circumstances— but it also means there is no one to help.

I limp from the scene, nearly tripping over one of the bodies, and continue in what I hope is the direction of the old grounds. There is barely enough light to see by, and all of my senses are dull with exhaustion and hunger.

After what feels like several more hours of slow walking, I finally look up to a familiar sight. A large, iron gate with carved stone dragons like epaulettes, and flanked by the sparse remains of fallen stone walls. The vast yard within is empty, save for over grown plants which have been left for so long they’ve strangled the life out of each other.

The distance from the gate of my front yard to where I think I recall there was once a cellar door feels endless. I’m near collapse and shaking violently, chilled down to my bones.

The cellar doors are still there, but I have to rip away knotted branches to reveal them. I wrench the doors back and slip inside, pulling them securely shut behind me. Sitting on the old stairs, it takes a moment to make my body cooperate with what I’m telling it to do. Eventually, I remember how to stand, and pick my way carefully down into the old basements.

Nothing about this place is familiar to me in the dark, granted, I wasn’t allowed down here much as a child. Besides food stores and an additional wine cellar, my father kept some of his alchemical supplies down here, things he did not often need up in the laboratory. And perhaps a few weapons.

That is what I’ve come for. The cellars are labyrinthine, as I recall, and I will need to pick over them carefully for anything I could use to set myself free from this fucking curse. But for now, I can go no further.

I collapse onto a pile of folded sheets, or sacks, I can’t tell what they are. But they give a little under me, which makes them preferable to the floor, and I lean back against the wall, resting my head on the cold stone. When I’ve caught my breath and waited long enough to be sure there is nothing unfriendly hiding down here, I lay myself out on the makeshift mattress and cover myself with my cloak. Though it’s soaked, the familiar weight of it is calming.

Everything hurts. None of my wounds or broken bones will heal properly, my capacity to mead myself has seemingly been suppressed. It’s almost interesting. Why would a corruption curse disrupt its host’s ability to heal? Under almost any other circumstances this would all be fascinating.

But instead of putting myself to solving this problem, I’m left alone in the silent dark, too spent to move at all anymore. I press my hand over the torn flesh of my throat, the wound is still leaking blood.

All at once, with nothing more to distract me, save the familiar pain, I’m forced to remember my Ellie. As soon as her face appears in my memory, the curse blazes. Lances of agony pierce through me. I refuse to scream, I refuse to acknowledge it at all. I curl in on myself, one hand tangling in my hair, the other clutching my ribs.

The strange and savage voice of the curse whispers to me of what I’ve done. It asks if I remember what it felt like to crush her throat. It sneers that I may as well let it take me, now that I’ve been reduced to this. It promises to make me forget.

And, god, I long to. My hands do recall the feel of squeezing the life out of my daughter. I wasn’t in my body, yet, my skin remembers.

I command the voice to be silent. It’s lying, it must be. I let go in time. I didn’t kill her.

It cannot be true. I search for the little wisp of Elle’s essence under my ribs. But it isn’t there. I can’t feel her. That is what finally breaks me, and I give into the fear and pain until I drop off to sleep.

I don’t have the sense that I’ve rested for long, my eyes are still sore from crying when I wake. I don’t at first know where I am. Everything is dark and the air is heavy and musty. I’m so cold— deeply, achingly cold. My body is racked with trembling, everything hurts. But the pain is different now, more of a dull simmering than raging flame.

I try to sit up, vague recollections of the past few days drifting back to me. But my head spins and it’s like there are needles being pushed through my skull. I’m burning with fever, the toll on my body has clearly been more extreme than I knew.

The voice is still whispering. It refuses to shut up. It makes me relive what I did, showing me the attack again and again. I feel the traces of the rush of pursuit, my heart races with the hazy memories of a bloodlust unlike any urge I’ve ever faced.

I wanted her life. I wanted it badly. My body had been driven by blind instinct and rage. I had enjoyed it.

No.

I push back against the suggestion and am rewarded with a stab of pain. That brings a little comfort. If the curse punishes me for resisting the idea that my daughter is dead at my hand, I can let myself hope it isn’t true. I can fight the magic’s influence.

You’re alive, little one, I know you are. And so long as that’s true, I can go on. I will not be conquered.

Chapter Text

Violet

“Are you alright?” Sypha leans against my shoulder to get my attention.

I’ve been staring off into space again. I exhale and nudge her back.

“I think so,” I rub my eyes, “just a little tired.”

We’re on the castle steps, people mill around us in every direction. The bustle and constant noise settle me somewhat. It isn’t the frantic scrambling of a few days ago, when the night creatures came, but just the everyday pitter-patter of castle workers and residents going about their business.

Our ability to whether an emergency here in Belmont has always amazed me. From the looks on their faces, no one would ever guess we are now living in a city under siege.

“This has all been… a lot,” Sypha murmurs, staring up at the gloomy sky and stretching her neck, “even I’m beginning to feel it.”

Unseasonably cold wind rushes through the courtyard, soaking right through my shawl and blowing my hair into my already pricking eyes.

“It’s been over a week.”

“I know.”

“Do we think…”

Sypha loops her arm through mine, “Don’t,” she says gently.

“That messenger said—”

“He was lying.”

I want to believe her. The people— or whatever they are— massing outside our walls have every reason to deliver false information. This would only help them to demoralize us faster. But why would they only tell our family? Why not inform the whole council, or send criers into the streets?

Why not tell as many people as possible that Alucard killed his own daughter?

I can’t shake the feeling there is more to their plot than I’m seeing, but I don’t know much about this sort of thing. War, and sieges, and diplomacy. I wish I’d had the nerve to ask Greta about it before she left for the city walls. She and a few other representatives have posted themselves out there to be a first point of contact for our invaders.

She wouldn’t even speak to me after the messenger left. She wouldn’t speak to anyone. Greta had just stared icily down at Elle’s bloody cloak on the hall floor and shut every internal defense against herself and the horrible news we’d just been struck with.

The messenger from the ghoul army— a ghoul himself— had been escorted by city guards up to the castle. He asked to speak with Lord Alucard’s family, privately. With Trevor, Sypha, and Greta all being on council, the other leaders had no problem acquiescing.

Soleil, not wanting to embarrass his mum by clinging to her in front of the enemy, held onto me instead. I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb, and he gripped my sleeve so hard his knuckles turned white.

Christopher stood beside his father, looking every bit the proud and strong Belmont heir. But his hands were shaking as hard as Sol’s. I was glad Elle’s other cousins, my own children, weren’t here to see this.

The messenger introduced himself as a representing his master, the Dark Priest Jun, of the Land of the Rising Sun. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at that. Why couldn’t he just say his master is Japanese?

This Jun, the dark priest, apparently has a long-lived grudge against Alucard for some kind of wrong committed against his family many years ago. Before the founding of Belmont. I couldn’t then, and can’t now, understand what could possible justify all of this.

The messenger ghoul spoke so vaguely, I didn’t catch everything that was being said. But Greta seemed to understand him perfectly, she had gone completely rigid at Sypha’s side.

When the stranger dropped a familiar pink cloak at Trevor’s feet, my ears began to ring. The blood pounded so hard in my head that I couldn’t hear what was being said anymore. Something about Alucard. Something about Elle, and murder.

He was saying Alucard had killed Elle. There was so much blood staining the little cloak.

“Before long, Lord Alucard will come to his senses and join my master, to make amends before he dies.”

Trevor denounced the man as a liar, demanding to know what grievances his master had with the city of Belmont, that he would order us besieged in this way.

The messenger would not give a straight answer, as Trevor would later tell me, he would not present a formal declaration of intent. Which I’m fairly certain violates the rules of warfare in this country.

I could not look away from Elle’s cloak.

“We still don’t know what they want. Have you heard from Greta? Violet? Violet?”

Sypha’s gentle prodding pulls me back to the moment. There are tears on my face.

“What if we’ve lost them both?” I sob.

Sypha takes me in her arms and lets me cry for a minute.

“Hush, hush. We cannot lose hope. We must be strong, for Ellie.”

She takes my face in her hands and places her forehead against mine. I sigh and swallow the lump in my throat.

“For Ellie.”

The rattling of cart wheels interrupts our quiet moment. The schoolchildren have all been collected from their homes or temporary lodgings and brought to me at the castle for their lessons. The schoolhouse was destroyed only hours after Greta came to evacuate us.

Be strong, keep on. Adapt, overcome. That’s what we do here in Belmont. Today will be no different. Hopefully, when I return home this evening there will be a letter from Greta waiting for me. It will be nice to read her words in her own hand. Until then, I’ll have to put on a brave face for the wee ones.

xxx

Soleil

“Isn’t it your day off!” I call to Christopher across the training yard.

He whacks the dummy again, snapping the polearm clean in half. Clearly, he’s coping well.

“No one can get out of the city. Did they tell you?” he throws the broken staff, the halves flipping end over end as they sail through the air.

“No, I haven’t spoken to mum and dad yet today.”

“Those assholes aren’t letting provisions get into Belmont. I’ll tell you this, Sol, whoever these people are, they’re not ordinary soldiers.”

“No kidding,” I say lightly.”

“I’m serious. They’re disorganized, their tactics aren’t exactly subtle, and they have no command structure. Not much of one, anyway. And they’re just killing time, according to dad. They haven’t made any demands since they got here. It’s like they’re waiting for something. Maybe waiting for their master,” he spits the word with obvious contempt, “that’s just what we need, another wielder of the dark arts swooping in to fuck everything up.”

“Breathe, just take a deep breath.”

Chris then seems to realize he’s beginning to panic, and does as I ask.

“I doubt, whoever this Jun is, he’s anywhere near as powerful as Dracula.”

“But he’s got just as many goons working for him. Not to mention the night creatures.

“Elle wouldn’t like you calling her magical animals night creatures.”

That brings him up short. Chris turns to face me properly, his expression is pained and there are dark circles under his eyes.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” he pleads in a whisper, acknowledging the messenger’s news for the first time.

“It can’t be. Alucard would never hurt Elle, ever.”

“And if he did?”

I consider the question for a moment.

“If he did, it’s only because he was forced to.”

“Do you get why I’m losing it? What could compel him to kill his daughter? Or even to harm her? I don’t know as much about magic, but if that’s what it was, wouldn’t it take a huge amount of power?”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing, and I know mum has too. I can’t stop thinking about what the messenger said about Alucard joining his master.”

“It’s got to be some kind of compulsion, right? Persuasive magic?”

“Against Alucard? Seems unlikely, he’s too strong.”

“But if it is, and their waiting for it to take full effect…?”

“We might be facing a Dracula-level threat after all.”

“If Alucard attacks the city, we’re finished. He’ll wipe us out, for good.”

I keep revisiting the image of the search party returning to the city gates, with Elle's flaxen pony at the end of a rope, plodding sullenly behind the supply wagon. Her little troop of housecats have been sitting at the windows, watching for her. This place doesn’t feel the same without my baby cousin.

Land of the Rising Sun, that’s what the messenger said. Aunt Violet taught us in geography lessons, ages ago, that’s the moniker for the island of Japan. Belmont hasn’t had many dealings with that nation, as far as I know? But Alucard traveled before the war, he could have spent time in the east.

Or, maybe his parents? It wouldn’t surprise me if all off this connected back to Dracula in some way.

“What are you thinking?” Chris asks, toeing the dirt.

“That I should visit our private archives as soon as possible.”

“You think this Jun fucker might be mentioned in there?”

“Or, something related to him. The messenger mentioned Jun is seeking revenge for wrongs against his family. Maybe Alucard kept records we could look through. Maybe our old village chroniclers wrote something down.”

“It’s a start, at any rate. Mind if I tag along?”

“I’d be happy to have you as my research assistant.”

My big brother gives me a genuine grin, relieved to have something to put his mind to— other than beating up on sparring dummies. He’s cleverer than he’s ever given himself credit for, he needs exercise for his mind just as much as I do.

“Let’s stop in and let mum know about our theory. With any luck, the adults will be able to point us in the right direction.”

xxx

Trevor

Sypha and I drop heavily into our usual chairs at our tea table by the window. The view from our apartment shows us the heavy clouds and swirling mist. Summer seems to have packed it in early this year.

“I think we need to start planning for the worst,” she says.

“Hey, none of that. I brought you up here so you could take a break for a minute.”

Sypha sighs shakily, “If it’s true, if Elle really is dead, it can’t look like we’re covering it up. The longer we delay, the worse it will be when word gets out.”

“I see we’re sharing thoughts, as usual.”

She reaches over to take my hand.

“You’re right, love,” I say, “I’ve got the feeling these people are planning something bigger than a siege. And it’s all got to do with Alucard.”

“The boys were asking us about the family archives, maybe they’ll find something.”

“I’ll ask Greta when I go out to the walls tonight. I’m trading places with the other council members who’ve been out there for a while.”

Sypha’s eyes flick towards our bed and then to me, peering up from under her long lashes.

“You know, I agree. No more work. I just got home, and now you’re leaving.”

I smile warmly at her, affection bubbling in my chest, “What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t want to think about any of this right now. Distract me for a while.”

xxx

Christopher

I’m crouched behind a covered wagon near the edge of the city. These ghoul bastards think they’ve got this whole place surrounded, but I know every inch of Belmont like the back of my hand.

There is a grating at the base of the wall where I can slip out, I just have to wait for the city guards to change positions. Elle’s cloak is clutched tight in my fists, I’m wringing the fabric like it’ll save my life. Hopefully, it’ll save hers.

The guards make their way past me, and I make my move. I sneak across the yard, bent low to avoid being seen, and lift the grate in the same particular way I have been since I was a kid. The hinges squeal a little, but I’m through and pulling it shut again fast enough that I’m not concerned about anyone catching me. But my heart beats unsteadily anyway.

Outside the wall, it’s a straight shot to the forest. I don’t know where all the ghouls are camped, so I move carefully, surveying the forest around me in the meager moonlight as I go.

Having to stay off the roads means the journey into the foothills will take at least a couple of hours, but I don’t care. I’ll hike all night if I have to. Elle's other family, the magical creatures she’s related to by virtue of her strange origins, may be able to help us.

I’m not going to risk going out to the farms to ask if any of the residents have domesticated work monsters I could borrow, but Elle knows almost all of the creatures in the forests. Maybe one of them feels like playing the hunting hound.

I just hope they can understand me, and that they won’t attack on sight when I show up carrying something covered in her dried blood. They might not even need that much provocation, I have no idea how many of the creatures around here have been changed by Jun's dark magic. They’ll probably try to take a bite out of me on sight.

The night air is wet from the storm that won’t go away, and the cold leeches right through my clothes. I drape Elle's cloak around my shoulders as I walk, looping the coil of rope over both forearms to make it easier to carry.

Please, God, let this work. If she’s alive out there, somewhere, she’s running out of time.

xxx

Adrielle

My feet hurt. So does my stomach. It’s dark and damp in this forest. Hardly any light can get through the leaves. Maybe that’s just because of the storm.

Where am I? I’ve been walking for so long, but nothing looks familiar yet. Which direction did I come from? I remember trying to get back to that old castle. I knew I was going the right way because I eventually found my cloak still snagged on a brambly bush.

But I was attacked. Ghouls, I think. They snarled and snapped their jaws as they chased me. One tore my cloak out of my arms. Was that the same day I got this wound to my neck? I don’t remember. It couldn’t have been long after, I was still bleeding. A lot.

How long has it been since then?

I sort of healed my neck. Or, at least I stopped the bleeding. It still hurts. Everything hurts. I’m so hungry. I haven’t slept in… I’m not sure how long. I can’t close my eyes. They might still be after me. Sometimes, I think I can hear their steps behind me. Getting closer. He might still be after me.

Where am I? I have to get home. It’s cold out here. I’m hungry. If I can just get back to my family, they’ll make everything better. They’ll know what to do. They’ll know how to save us.

There’s a loud flapping sound overhead, like someone shaking out a tarp. It might be wings. More monsters.

I barely escaped the last scaly beast that found me half asleep in a hollow tree. I had just enough strength left to telepathically beg it not to kill me. It didn’t quiet listen, but I bought myself enough time to get away.

Now, I can’t even run anymore. My mind screams at me to get away, but my body won’t listen to it. I’m too tired to care anymore.

I hear the crashing of a large body through the branches, and the flapping stops abruptly. There is a heavy thudding in front of me as the monster makes its landing. It takes a long time for my eyes to focus. I’d like to see what’s about to eat me, to know what it is.

In the grey of the forest, something the size of a horse stands before me. It’s furry and smells of smoke and sky. It noses towards me, snuffling in my face and hair. My legs begin to shake. I wait to feel it’s protruding teeth rip me apart, but nothing happens.

Now that it’s so close to me I almost recognize a heart-shaped nose and red eyes that glint in the low light.

“Do I know you?” my psychic voice is weak, but it comes.

The thing butts his head into my chest and I begin to sob. I sink down, too tired to stand any longer, and the firedrake lets me hold onto its head so I don’t fall. It rumbles kindly, as if its purring. The sound vibrates through me.

“Imp, is that you?”

It makes a low whining sound in answer, and the relief makes my head spin. Now that I’m touching something warm, I’m very aware of how cold I am. My teeth are chattering and I can’t feel my fingers anymore. I haven’t been able to feel them for a long time, I think.

Imp pulls away from me. I grab at his fur to keep his warmth close, but he is determined to back up. The next moment, the world around me is ablaze with light and heat. Fire spills from Imp’s mouth to wash over me, bringing sensation crashing back into my body. He continues to spout gentle puffs of flame until I stop shaking. Then, he nuzzles against me again, encouraging me to stand.

He nudges me around to his shoulder, asking me to climb onto his back. Even tired and fuzzy as my mind is, I still have enough sense to know that wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m still really weak, I’d fall right off.

As my hands pat over his fluffy mane, I feel something unexpected over Imp’s back. Someone has tied a rope around him like a harness. Reaching over his back, I feel a length of it hanging loose, and I begin to understand.

Tears drip down my face.

“Someone sent you, didn’t they?”

Maybe it was tati. Maybe he already made it home. If he did, the other grown-ups might have already helped him get better. What if he’s waiting for me?

Imp chirrups like a cat and shoves my hip, insistent that I should climb on.

I do, using his elbow as a step. It takes a massive effort, but I’m able to get my leg over him after a few slips. With the extra length of rope, I tie myself to my firedrake friend, making a few more knots than is probably necessary.

Imp moves slowly, as if he’s trying to make sure I won’t fall. The motion makes me feel a bit sick, but I ignore it as best I can. He stands up against a tree and begins to claw his way to the top. When we break through the canopy, I carefully lay myself flat along his neck, taking fistfuls of his scruffy mane.

“Take me home,” I rasp. The words burn my torn throat.

Imp spreads his wings and leaps from the treetop. From the air, I recognize the silhouette of the mountains that guard Belmont’s valley. I was headed the right direction, after all.

xxx

Violet

“Sol, time to come up to dinner,” I call down the stairs.

“I’ll be right there,” he shouts back.

“Now, young man. Not in twenty minutes when you finish with whatever you’re reading.”

I catch his light laugh as it drifts up to me.

“Coming, aunt Violet.”

A moment later, after some rustling and shuffling of papers, Soleil trudges up the stairs from the archive room, rolling back his shoulders.

“Anything?” I ask, knowing he’ll be dying to tell someone about anything he might have found.

He frowns, “I wish I could say yes, but there’s nothing yet. Chris was helping earlier, which was actually kind of fun. It was nice to have some company, its sort of creepy down there.”

“Speaking of your brother, Trevor said he hasn’t seen him since this morning.”

“We were together until a few hours ago. He said he had an idea of how to find Elle, and the less I knew, the better.”

“He’s sneaking out of the city, isn’t he?”

“Almost definitely.”

“Stupid boy. One day, his heroics are going to get him in trouble.”

“He can’t help it, he takes after dad.”

“It still foolish, with all those vampire soldiers outside the walls.”

“They aren’t vampires, most of them are ghouls.”

“I don’t care. They could still kill Christopher, if he’s caught.”

“If he tried sneaking out of anywhere other than Belmont, I might be worried. But he knows this place better than almost anyone. He’ll be ok. And I’m happy to keep his secret if it means finding Elle and Alucard.”

xxx

Soleil

When we arrive up at the family apartments, Greta is waiting for us at the doors. I guess she’s the one dad switched posts with at the walls.

Aunt Violet’s face splits into a huge grin, and to my relief, aunt Greta returns her smile. They embrace, Greta kissing Violet’s hair and rocking them back and forth. I watch the floor, not bothering to hide my own smile, as the two say again and again how much they missed each other.

Because I’m not looking, I don’t see it coming when auntie Greta pulls me into a hug too. She squeezes me hard and pats my back.

“How’re you holding up, kid?”

“I’m ok, I suppose.”

“Your mum tells me you’re looking through family records for anything about Jun and Alucard.”

“Yeah, but I haven’t found anything yet.”

Violet goes into the apartment and aunt Greta speaks quietly into my ear, “Come and find me after we eat. I might have an idea where you could look.”

A thrill races up my back. I nod, and she follows her partner. I’m about to go with them when I catch sight of Christopher coming down the corridor. He’s drenched from the rain and covered in mud. He doesn’t notice me as he slips through another door into a different room of the family apartments. He’s still carrying Elle’s cloak.

I check to make sure no one in the sitting room can see me through the open doorway, and follow him.

“You’re back already?” I whisper.

Chris beams at me, though his eyes are still filled with anxiety, “It worked!”

“You found one of her monster friends?”

“Actually, it found me. Furry bastard dropped out of the sky right in front of me. Almost scared me to death.”

I snort and help him out of his muddy coat.

“I think it was that firedrake we met before she left with Alucard. I showed it the cloak and told it what happened. Elle always said they understand us better than normal animals, but I never believed it.”

“Obviously you did believe, or you wouldn’t have bothered going out there at all.”

He shrugs and his brows quirk like he’s amused.

“It was amazing. That thing looked right in my eyes, and I knew it understood what I was asking. I showed it the cloak, it got the scent, and took off. Just like that. I turned right around and came home.”

“I’m glad you didn’t have to stay out there all night,” I say as Chris gets changed into clean clothes.

“Please,” he laughs, “those freaks would never have caught me. I’m quick as a fox.”

He gives me another cheeky grin and I can’t help but smile too. I tell him what aunt Greta said and his whole body relaxes with a sigh. He grabs me around the shoulders and gives me a little shake as we make our way to the dining room.

“We’re finally getting somewhere,” he says.

I agree. I only hope things don’t get worse before they get better.

xxx

Violet

Dinner is actually peaceful, everyone sharing about their day and swapping information like it’s a clandestine council meeting. Christopher tells us of the success of his mad plan to engage the help of a night creature in finding Elle, and says all we have to do now is wait. Sypha spells a short letter to Trevor at the wall, right there at the table.

Soleil is tense, which isn’t unusual, but it seems more like he’s eager to get back down to the archives, rather than being gnawed on by helplessness and unease.

Thunder rolls over the castle, making the walls quake and the candles shiver, but no one pays it any mind. We’ve all gotten used to this storm that won’t pass.

On the far side of the room, beside the sofas, the huge distance mirror activates. Chills skitter over my skin, and Sypha and Greta get quickly to their feet. Only members of our family can travel through this mirror. I gather Soleil and Chris and move us to the furthest corner of the room, in case something or someone unfriendly comes through.

The glass clears and Trevor all but falls into the apartment. Sypha practically shrieks his name, clearly concerned, but he holds up a hand so he can speak first. I wasn’t aware they’d brought a traveling mirror to the diplomat camp at the city walls.

“I just got your note when something was spotted flying over the camp, it will have come over the wall by now.”

Chris goes rigid with anticipation, “What was it? Did anyone see what kind of creature it was?”

“Firedrake. They’ll ring the bells any second.”

On cue, the tower bells bang out their song. But it isn’t an alarm, it’s the signal for a noncombatant’s approach to the castle. My heart soars, and I nearly trip over myself in my rush to put my arms around my love.

Greta kisses me hard, “Thank god,” she whispers, then takes me by the hand as we all make for the front court yard.

Trevor is first through the huge front doors, Sypha and Sol hold their glimmering magic in their hands, and Chris jogs up to stand at his father’s side. They both brandish their whips, just in case this visitor turns out to be a foe after all.

A few agonizing moments of silence pass as we await the drake’s arrival. The night sky is so dark with clouds that I can’t see the stars. Then, we hear it— the leathery flap of wings.

The firedrake glides almost silently over the yard walls, and drifts to the ground, glancing over its shoulder all the while. I’ve never been overly fond of magical creatures, but this one doesn’t seem so bad, at least from a distance.

Greta doesn’t hesitate, she drops my hand and races toward our guest. Feeling returns to my fingertips, I hadn’t realized how hard we were holding on to each other. The rest of us inch forward slower, so as not to startle the drake.

There, on the creature’s back, is a smudge of creamy-silver against the gloom. Greta draws the blade she keeps strapped to her calf, and begins sawing at what might be rope. She’s cooing softly, trying not to let her voice break.

“Oh, my little bird. Poor, sweet thing.”

Greta’s obvious grief at what she’s seeing makes me brave, and I approach the firedrake cautiously to stand at her side.

I swear sufficient to make a sailor blush. Little Ellie is lying against Greta’s shoulder while she removes the rope that’s holding her to the drake. Her golden eyes are still open a little, ringed with dark, bruisy shadows. She isn’t moving. Her clothes and skin are stained with something dark. The metallic scent of blood makes me woozy.

“Oh, god,” I breathe, “what happened to her?”

“It doesn’t matter right now, she’s alive— barely. Help me get her inside. Sypha!” she calls.

“Right. Bring her to the infirmary.”

“She’s covered in blood,” I say, almost wanting someone to tell me I’m imagining it.

“It’s ok,” Elle’s voice is only a faint whisper in my head, “it’s not mine.”

Liar, we can all plainly see her injuries. Even at a time like this, she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her.

Greta scoops Elle into her arms and rushes with Sypha and Soleil back indoors. The firedrake whimpers and whines when his tiny passenger is taken from him.

“It’s alright,” I say, “we’ll take good care of her.”

“Alright, get going,” Trevor orders, “we don’t need you hanging around, frightening everyone.”

The drake sits on its haunches on the stone floor of the courtyard like it plans to stay there.  Trevor huffs, we don’t have time to bother with this right now.

“Please yourself.”

The Belmont men follow me back to the castle. My high spirits at Elle's return have vanished. Even in the dark, those injuries looked serious. But Greta’s right, all that matters right now is that Elle has come home to us, alive.

xxx

Sypha

Soleil knows his way around the castle infirmary well. I wonder when that happened. I’ve been away for a lot of the year, my boys have changed so much in my absence. He’s able to collect what I ask him for, and he does so with steely determination not to let his distress show. Even seasoned physicians would struggle with that under such circumstances.

“Greta, put Elle on the raised cot, it’s more comfortable than the examination table.”

Trevor is speaking, but it takes a moment to catch his words because I’m too focused on arranging a work station so I can have a look at Adrielle. When I come back to the moment, he’s barking questions at her.

“What happened? Where have you been? Where’s Alucard? Who hurt you?”

He’s so caught up in demanding answers, he hasn’t noticed Elle is weeping silently. I’m not sure she’s even aware she’s doing it. She doesn’t seem to be aware of much just now.

“Trevor,” I say, taking his arm, “why don’t you give us some space. I’ll let you know if she shares anything with us.”

He realizes his concern made him come on a little strong— the dear man can do that sometimes— and motions Christopher to follow him out of our way.

“I’ll go, too,” Greta says, “Do you want to come with me, Vi?”

Violet shakes her head slightly, “I’ll stay,” she murmurs around a yawn.

“Ok,” Greta kisses her hair and departs.

“You don’t have to stay, Violet, we can manage. Why not go up to bed if you’re tired.”

“No, I’ll stay for Elle. You can’t doctor her and hold her hand at the same time.”

Elle has Violet’s hand in a death grip. I nod and begin my work by asking Elle to lift. Her chin so I can have a look at the wound to her throat. Slowly, she tips her head back. As soon as she does, she nearly swoons.

Violet catches her, shifting to sit behind Elle and prop her up against her chest.

“It’s probably been a while since she’s eaten,” Violet says soberly.

“More than that, her magic is unstable. I can feel it. I hope it’s just from the exposure and exhaustion.”

“How do we help her?”

I turn to Soleil, who is waiting patiently to be given orders, quiet as a church mouse, “Go up to the alchemy laboratory. In the case on the left wall you’ll find vials of blood marked for Elle. Bring three, please.”

“Right away,” he strides off without another word.

“Why does it have to be that blood?” Violet asks.

“Elle can only drink Alucard’s blood, remember? When she was changed years ago, she awoke with a need for blood, but she can’t keep anything else down. He stores his blood in enchanted vials, in case he isn’t here to feed her.”

Elle makes a tiny croaking sound in the back of her throat, like she’s trying to speak.

“Sssh, it’s alright,” I say, laying a hand on her knee, “you don’t have to say anything.”

She makes the sound again, it clearly hurts to use her voice. She must be too exhausted to speak telepathically.

“He’s not here?” she squeaks in her reedy voice.

“Do you mean Alucard?” I ask gently, “No, we hoped he was with you.”

If I’m honest with myself, none of us really believed they were together all this time. He would have brought her home as soon as could be.

Elle begins to cry again, tears streaming down her face. Then, as if her strings have been cut, she collapses into Violet’s arms, unconscious.

xxx

Soleil

When I return with the blood from the laboratory, mum has laid Elle out on the cot and is examining the damage to her neck.

“Soleil, come and look at this. Tell me what you see.”

I approach slowly, hands behind my back.

“At least it doesn’t look like a bite,” I say, “Is this the source of the interference to her magic?”

“I believe so. Do you recall what I told you about the scars on my shoulder?”

“You got them fighting Dracula.”

“Yes, he swiped at me and cut my arm with his claws. It’s the same for the scar on Alucard’s chest. Wounds dealt by powerful vampires don’t ever fully heal. Especially those vampires saturated with dark magic.”

“So, Alucard…”

“Whatever has happened to him, something about his nature has been altered. Elle is covered in foul energies. Just from being too near him, I assume.”

“Can you help her?”

“Once I get her magic stabilized, that should regulate her vital signs. Her body will be able to start healing in its usual way once there is no more interference.”

The next few hours pass in a blur of fear and sleeplessness. Mum tries to send me to bed several times, but I respectfully tell her I will remain with her and aunt Violet until Elle is in the clear.

They use technology Lady Lisa developed many years ago. Tubing made from sterilized and hardened animal guts, with a hollow needle on the end, to feed the bottled blood directly into Elle's veins. Once all three vials have been delivered, some of the color comes back into her cheeks. But she shows no signs of waking.

Mum says that’s because she’s too deeply asleep now, but that she’ll come around in a day or so. I pray she’s right, and I’m not usually the praying sort.

Aunt Violet stays beside Elle all night, holding her hand and talking quietly to her. The three of us are completely done in by the time mum finally lets us know that Elle is going to be ok, but that it will be a slow recovery.

“I think she must have used her own power to close the neck wound.”

“But it’s still so raw,” says aunt Violet.

“Vampires can’t typically use their own powers on themselves, I suppose it’s the same for Elle. It’s like pushing same-pole magnets together, one kind of magic cannot easily stick to itself. Her throat will scar worse because it wasn’t sewn up properly, but I’m more concerned about the damage to her vocal chords.”

“Will she speak again?” asks Violet.

Mum presses her lips together, “If she does, I don’t think it will ever be the same. Even with her enhanced healing, the damage is extensive, and left untreated for far too long.”

“She’s alive,” I say as I begin to make notes on all of Elle's injuries like I was taught to when the siege began, “that’s what matters most. I know Alucard will say the same when he comes home.”

None of us dare to speak it aloud, but I’m sure we’re all thinking the same thing— Alucard did this to Elle. That messenger wasn’t lying. I don’t believe for a second that my godfather has joined up with this dark mage. Not by choice, anyway. But it’s clear something horrible has been done to him. And if it’s come to this, it may already be too late.

I go with Violet to take Elle to bed, then shuffle back to my own room at a snail’s pace. My whole body is tingly with overwork, and my eyes won’t stay open any longer. I’m surprised to find Christopher in his old bed across from mine. He hasn’t lived in the family apartments for ages.

I shed my boots and cowl before crawling into bed beside my brother, resting my head on his shoulder like I did when I was little after a nightmare.

I have to remember to find aunt Greta as soon as I get up. I need to find out what she was going to tell me about the archives.

xxx

Adrielle

When I open my eyes, I have the feeling that I’ve been asleep for a long time. My head is full of cotton fluff, and my limbs are still heavy. I wait to fall back to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come.

There is something warm and soft against my head. I can only turn my head slightly without pain, but it’s far enough to be able to press my cheek into one of my cat’s silky fur. He begins purring instantly, which alerts the other cats that I’m awake.

This doesn’t feel like just any other morning, but this at least hasn’t changed. I feel empty, rung out like a cloth. The cramps in my stomach aren’t as bad, but I still don’t feel very well.

“Ellie?” a familiar, soft voice beside me speaks my name.

My words won’t come when I try to speak. Auntie Violet leans over me, stroking my hand. Her eyes are red and puffy. She tells me not to try to talk, and that my voice may be gone for a while. I almost don’t care if it never comes back.

“Tati?”

Aunt Violet shakes her head, “He hasn’t come home yet. You’ve been asleep for more than a day.”

“What’s going on?” the question doesn’t feel big enough to encompass everything I’ve seen since leaving for the monastery.

Aunt Violet tries to ask me how I’m feeling, but I insist on her answering me first. She tells me some of what’s happening in and around Belmont. Jun has introduced himself through a messenger, and his forces have combined from smaller raiding parties into one large army, and they’ve sealed off the city.

More magical creatures have joined them. How many of that number were taken from our lands? How many of my friends have been corrupted?

It chills me to hear Jun made contact with the rest of my family. What else did he tell them? How much do they know about his parent’s history with tati? There is so much I have to find out, I have to ask the grown-ups all my questions. Maybe I already know something that can help. I just have to gather the energy to get out of my bed.

Even though she tells me all about the visit from Jun's messenger, it isn’t the lie about my death that unnerves me. Jun has promised that tati will join him before the curse claims his life. Why?

Jun's words from the old castle come back to me, misty and unclear. He said he would destroy tati completely— as a man, a leader, and a myth. So, this is how he intends to do it.

Letting him roam Wallachia with that curse controlling his body isn’t enough. Jun wants to give the orders, but he can’t until the curse takes full effect. Which means I was right, he severely underestimated tati’s strength. And the curse hasn’t taken hold yet, not all the way.

How will Jun know when the curse has taken root? Is he keyed into the magic somehow? Would it be possible for us to do the same? Access the magic at the heart of the curse and reach tati from the inside? I wish I knew more about how dark magic works, then I could make sense of everything I saw.

One thing is terrifyingly clear to me, though. My family have no idea where tati is. Or just how much trouble he’s in.

“Uncle Trevor,” I try to say, but the name comes out croaky and hard to understand. Hadn’t he been asking me questions when I got back? Maybe he already has a plan.

“Do you want me to get Trevor for you?”

“I need to tell him—” a spike of pain through my head makes speaking silently suddenly impossible. I make a noise of discomfort, and aunt Violet helps me sit up so I can drink a little water.

With difficulty, I manage to communicate to her that I want to go to my writing desk. I need to write down everything that happened so Treffie and my other aunties can figure out how to save tati.

She looks unsure that I should move, but I plead with my eyes until she gives in. Violet carries me to the desk and helps me to get as comfortable as I can in the chair. The cats follow in a cluster, weaving between the legs of the chair, chirping and mewing.

One, the large white cat, jumps onto the desk to sit beside me while I dig out my paper and begin to write. I try to get it all down, even though the headache makes is hard to recall everything. I keep at it for nearly an hour, forcing my eyes to stay focused on the page, even when remembering makes my hand shake.

My snowy cat senses my distress and kisses my forehead. Finally, I drop my quill and lift him into my arms. It’s not easy, I’m still really weak, but holding something soft and warm is calming after having to write down all those terrible things.

“Should I give this to the others?” auntie asks.

I nod, but grab her sleeve to stall her before she can leave, “Tell them it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t mean it. Tell them they have to save my tati.”

Violet kisses my cheek and promises to come back to check on me in a few minutes. I’ve never been more grateful for the company of my cats, because they keep making their noises even after the door closes behind aunt Violet. Without them, I’d be left in absolute silence.

I absently reach for the pendant around my neck, rubbing its smooth sides between my fingers. It’s cold to the touch and no longer has that little spark it did when tati gave it to me. How long ago was my birthday? I look around, disoriented.

Is this really my bedroom? Everything seems strange and unfamiliar. My toy bear sits on my pillow, my books are piled in their usual stacks against the wall, even my little desk as exactly as I left it. But I might as well be somewhere entirely new, because nothing feels right. Even my skin feels like wearing clothes that are too small.

I repeat the last line of my letter over and over in my head.

“Please find him, uncle Treffie. He doesn’t have long.”

xxx

Trevor

Deep breaths. Just have to take a few deep breaths before I speak. It won’t help anyone if I go flying off the handle again. I need to be calm, be present for my family right now, they need me.

Sypha finishes reading us Elle’s account for the second time, passing the letter to Christopher so he and Soleil can go over a detail that caught their attention.

I’m fucking reeling. Sypha takes my hand and places it over my heart, covering it with her own. They seem so fine and clever next to mine, which have only ever been only good for killing and breaking things.

Stop it. That isn’t helpful. Now isn’t the time for self-pity. I let my partner lend me her strength, and exhale the last of my pent-up agitation. That poor kid, she shouldn’t have had to go through all of that.

“I can’t believe she made no mention of how she got back here,” I say, “She must have walked for days.”

“I can’t imagine how scared she must have been, lost in the wilderness all by herself.”

“That’s not important to her, I guess.”

“All she cares about is finding Alucard.”

“Makes sense,” I say, scratching through my hair, “he’s the most important thing in the world to her. He’s part of her.”

Sypha’s face lights up, like she’s given herself an idea.

“Yes,” she says slowly, “and she’s part of him!”

The boys look up from Elle’s letter.

“What is it, mum,” Sol asks.

“Elle is made from Alucard’s soul. The magic that made her tore away a piece, and built her around it.”

“So…?” I draw out the word, already out of my depth.

“So, I may be able to formulate a tracking spell.”

Soleil claps his hands together and bounces on the balls of his feet.

“Right! You need to make an anchor for the working. Since Elle is made from Alucard— literally— she carries his essence in her. His unique magical sequence. Mum, that’s brilliant!”

“Wait a second,” I caution, “we don’t have any idea where he is. This Jun asshole might be expecting us to do just that. He knows we have powerful mages in Belmont. What if he already set a trap for us?”

“I don’t think so,” Chris counters, “this is all to do with Alucard, not us, per se. And Elle says here,” he flaps the letter in the air, “she doesn’t think this curse, or whatever it is, has taken hold yet. As long as Alucard is in control of himself, he would never let us be led into a trap.”

“I agree,” Sypha says, “it’s our best hope right now. If Elle is correct in her account, then Alucard is indeed on borrowed time.”

“And once that time runs out,” Chris continues, “we could all be in serious danger. I told you, Sol and I think Jun means to direct Alucard’s power at Belmont. If we don’t find him soon, we’re fucked.”

I concede, “I’ve had that same thought more than once this morning.”

Sypha rubs my arm, squeezing my bicep, “I’ll gather a few of my students, they’re discreet. We’ll get to work today.”

“Actually, that goes for you two, as well,” I say to our sons, “No one outside of our family needs to know about all this. We will protect Alucard’s legacy, no matter what happens. For the sake of everything he’s built here. And for Elle.”

“For Elle,” they affirm together.

xxx

Soleil

Chills of excitement make me mindful of the tension in my muscles. Is this what vanquishers feel when they corner their target? Do hunting vampires get the same eager ripples in their chests as they lie in wait for prey to come within striking range? For me, the thrill of the chase has only ever been found among books. My attention focuses down to my goal, very little else can penetrate.

I mouth the catalogue number aunt Greta gave me, as if it hasn’t already been embroidered on my mind. Running my fingers over the spines and stacks on the shelves is both calming and gripping in equal measure.

“Where are you?” I whisper.

I haven’t spent much time in this part of the family archives. I’ve been over our copies of ancestry charts and family histories from the Hold, I even helped make some of those copies when I apprenticed under one of the Belmont scribes. But this little section Greta told me about is mostly for personal papers and effects of our immediate family.

Birth records, adoption papers for Greta and Violet’s kids, and mum and dad’s writings about their teaching and travels. This little room is full to bursting with our recent history.

I’m just accepting that I’ll probably be down here all day when I catch a glimpse of what I’m looking for. Sticking out from under a stack of old letters is the corner of a notebook, bound in scarlet leather with corner caps shaped like arrows. Exactly as aunt Greta described.

Extricating it gingerly, I lay the book on my knee and lift back the cover. On the fly-leaf, in a familiar, swirling hand, is Alucard’s name and the dates 1476-1478. My heart kicks as I turn to the first page.

Late December, 1476

It’s been many years since I kept a journal, or any written record of my life.

This feels wrong. I’ve read the personal writings of other family members before, but they are all long-dead, and it was for the purpose of adding their stories to our library. But this is Alucard’s journal, kept the year Elle was made. Reading this, while he is still very much alive, feels invasive.

But auntie Greta looked so sure when she told me she believes we might find something helpful in here. She said that, if I could find this journal, I should bring it directly to her. Whatever is in here is likely to be unpleasant.

I know I should do as she told me, but my curiosity wins out over my better judgement, and I begin to read. It doesn’t take long before I find what she was alluding to. Alucard’s account of the months following the end of the war, in only a few hastily written pages, is enough to make my eyes fill with tears.

I instantly change my mind about reading this by myself, and tuck the book into my cowl. The adults should see this, immediately.

Chapter Text

Adrielle

I feel better after a long bath. I’m still shaky and a bit lightheaded, but scrubbing the forest off me is a relief. Aunt Violet asked if I needed any help bathing, and truthfully, I wanted to say yes. My legs are still weak and I was worried I’d faint in the bath. But no one besides tati has ever helped me bathe, and I wasn’t comfortable saying accepting. So, auntie waited outside the door.

I’ve been home three days now. Sypha has told me about her plan to make a tracking spell, but she wants me to rest a while before she tries using my magic as an anchor. I keep croaking at her that I’m fine, and that she should try the spell immediately, but she won’t bite.

For three days I’ve done almost nothing but sleep. When I have a little energy, I drift around the courtyard, just because it’s a habit, admiring the flowers. They’re all dying early this year thanks to the gloomy weather. The sun hasn’t come out for ages, and it’s starting to tell on the humans.

I can’t take this weather, either. I usually love storms, I was born during a lightning storm. But never seeing the sun makes me feel like I’m always asleep, which only makes me more uneasy. Just because I’m sleeping more than a housecat doesn’t mean my sleep is restful.

I have bad dreams every time I close my eyes. I wake up sticky and frightened, but there is nothing to do about it. Normally, I would crawl in bed with tati. But he isn’t here anymore. And I don’t want cuddles with anybody else, not even Sol or Sypha.

And I can’t stop crying. I don’t even think I cried this much when I was new, and the whole world was too big and strange. I study my reflection in the long washroom mirror, after assuring aunt Violet that I could handle dressing alone and she didn’t need to stand guard anymore. The eyes that stare vacantly back at me are swollen and lifeless.

But it’s the neck wound that’s truly unnerving. It’s gnarled and raw, flesh puckering around where the five long gashes had been, and covers all the visible skin. It’s not silvery-pink like uncle Trevor’s scars, or smooth like the stripe on tati’s chest. It’s still deep red and sore. I’m told it won’t heal well.

The girl that watches me from the mirror is a stranger. Sure, that’s my long hair and small frame, but my reflection doesn’t remind me of myself anymore.

I pull on my softest sleep clothes and wrap a blanket around myself. Sypha will agree to perform the spell today, or I’ll hold my breath until she does. I guess todays the day we figure out how long I can go without air.

Something about that thought suddenly leaves me frozen in the middle of the gallery outside my room. Cold terror crawls all over me, making it hard to breathe or think. I can actually feel a hand around my throat. It can’t be real, I’m standing here alone. But my whole body reacts like I’m being hunted all over again.

I race up the hall to the first hiding spot I can find, an old cabinet below a bookcase. I tuck myself inside and cover my ears, rocking steadily back and forth.

It’s not real. I’m back home now. I’m safe, no one will hurt me here. Those ghouls are far away on the other side of the city walls.

Just on the other side. If they’re given the order to take the city, what will we do? Will they come for me? Will they deliver me to tati? Will he kill me if he sees me again?

“Ellie?” a soft voice makes me jump out of my skin. I scream, but it comes out as a stinging rasp.

I clamp my hands over my mouth. Maybe they’ll just pass by. Maybe they haven’t noticed me. It’s so dark in the forest, the trees will protect me.

Light invades my hiding place and panic floods through me. I stare wide-eyed up at Sypha, I know it’s her I’m looking at, but the fear doesn’t go away. Because, even though I recognize my auntie, it feels like I’m looking at a stranger.

“I want my tati,” I squeak, even as I feel another spike of fear at the idea of seeing him again, as he was in that field.

“I know, sweetling,” she says, carefully gathering me into her arms.

 I let her take me from my shelter in the hollow tree, back out into the bedchamber gallery. The visions fade, and I know I’m safe, but my heart doesn’t slow down.

We sit there on the carpet for a long time. Sypha rocks us slowly until my muscles release from their coils.

“Make the anchor with me. Please, Sypha. I need this to be over now.”

She reluctantly agrees, and carries me on her hip to the alchemy laboratory. I’m set down by one of the work tables, and I wobble a little until I get my balance. I hope Sypha didn’t see, she might change her mind about performing the spell.

“Alright, up on the table,” she says, coming back with arms full of supplies. I recognize a big spell scroll, colored chalk dust, and a clear chunk of crystal— probably to absorb any excess magic.

I lift myself onto the work top and wait impatiently while Sypha lays the scroll out behind me and instructs me to scoot back until I’m sitting in the middle of it. Once I’m settled, she mixes the chalk with water to make a paint and uses a finger to draw alchemical symbols on my skin. Sadly, I’ve had to abandon my blanket and I’m getting cold again.

Sypha flips the page of a massive book on a lectern, and places her palm on the page, “Are you ready?”

The utter calm in her voice tells me I should be nervous.

“Yes,” I nod in case my silent voice doesn’t reach her.

“Very well, here we go.”

At the very least, Sypha’s magic is very warm. Like slipping into a bath. I shiver and try to relax, thinking it won’t be all that bad. I succeed in staying calm until the spell begins to drain my own magic from me to form the anchor. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but it’s uncomfortable and makes me feel kind of itchy as the magic skitters everywhere.

My eyes grow heavy and blurry, and my head fills up with cotton again. Guess I’ll be spending another few days stuck in bed. This goes on for a while, Sypha reciting the spell, quiet and firm. But though I’m expecting pain, it never comes.

Sypha speaks a few words of a language I’ve never heard, and closes the spell. I thought it would be more involved. Huge arrays, windows exploding, that sort of thing.

“How are you?” she asks.

“Sleepy.”

“Can you make it back to your room? I could carry you.”

“No, can I stay here while you work?”

Sypha brings me to one of the benches along the wall and helps me wipe the chalky paint off. Then, she wraps me up tight in my blanket. I had a bad fever a couple of years ago when there was sickness going around the castle, this feels a little like that. Slimy and shivery, like having a cold. But this time, my tati isn’t here to pet my hair while I fall asleep.

I drop off quickly, listening to Sypha bustle around the laboratory, preparing the spell that will find her old friend.

xxx

Greta

Trevor is pacing the sitting room, and Sypha looks like she might be sick on the rug. Violet sits at beside me on the sofa, shocked into silence and unable to move. I stroke her arms, trying to rub some warmth back into her.

Alucard’s old journal sits on the chair Trevor had just been occupying, open to a page spattered with blood. Soleil came to us as we were coming out of a council meeting to say he’d found the journal, but that he didn’t think I actually knew the full extent of its contents. His hunch was correct, Alucard never shared these things with me.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, “I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“You said he told you about it— the humans he took in, that’s why you thought it might be in the journal,” Trevor replies snappishly, “he never gave you any hint about any of it?”

I comb back through my memory to the night I met Alucard.

“We were on our way back here with my villagers, to seek refuge from the night hordes, the first time he mentioned it. I kept trying to get him talking, because I wanted to know what sort of person I’d chosen to trust with my people’s lives.”

Sypha scrubs her hands over her face and nods to the book, “I know you’ve been his closest confidante over the years. Did he tell you about this? About how they…” she can’t bring herself to say it.

“A little. The scouts from Danesti had seen their bodies outside the castle. Them, and some vampire hunters that came raiding. I was trying to figure out whether Alucard was a threat or not. I didn’t want to lead the people into a death trap where we’d all end up as lawn ornaments.”

Trevor actually shivers.

“Alucard told me those twins came to him in March of fourteen-seventy-seven, and asked him to teach them how to kill vampires. But after a few weeks, they tried to kill him while he slept. Or, I think he said ‘in the middle of the night’. They were apparently unsatisfied with what he gave them. I don’t know the details of their deaths. I assumed there was a fight, you know? Some kind of battle where he’d beaten them fair and square. I never imagined—”

“Well, it’s pretty fucking clear he killed them, alright. Now their love-child is after retribution. And he doesn’t just want Alucard anymore, he wants all of us!”

“He wants to destroy Alucard,” Sypha says, “that’s what Elle wrote in her letter. Belmont is Alucard’s home, his legacy, built around his castle.”

“All of this exists,” I gesture out the window to the city beyond, “because his love for his daughter inspired him to be a hero. He made the choice to help us that night because he wanted to make her proud, and all of Wallachia was changed because of it.”

“And if the kids are right, Jun is going to use Alucard to destroy us,” Sypha states, voice and posture limp under the strain we’re all feeling.

We sit in silence for a long moment. There is much of the diary still left to read through, but now we know the root of all our troubles. A son grieving for the parents he never knew.

“Even under these unusually… distasteful circumstances,” I say tentatively, “I can at least admit the boy has a right to be angry.”

“No,” Violet interrupts, “no, he doesn’t. Those people— Sumi and Taka,” she spits their names like an angry snake, “they got what they deserved.”

“Of course, love” I try to say, but she stands and joins Trevor in pacing the room, “I’m only saying that—”

“They raped him, Greta!”

Any response I might have given dies in my mouth. My partner’s words cut me right down to my core, and I’m not the only one. Trevor and Sypha exchange a look full of such regret that it cracks my heart.

Violet, however, is not done.

“They lied to him, probably stalked him for days or weeks before revealing themselves, then gained his trust and manipulated him when they knew he was hurting. Those… those… people got in bed with him under false pretenses, and tried to kill him when Alucard was at his most vulnerable. Jesus! No wonder he never wanted to share the particulars with you. He cared for them, and they betrayed him.”

“I wish we had never left him alone,” Sypha moans, on the verge of tears.

Trevor takes her in his arms and they cling to each other, “He’s not alone anymore. He knows that, wherever he is. He knows we’re coming for him.”

“Wait, Trevor!” I nearly shout, making Violet cover her ears, “Sorry, love. I was just going to say, I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it, headwoman.”

“In the journal, Alucard mentioned this castle used to have basements, right?”

“Yeah, but they got left behind when…” his eyes light up as he catches on, “when the castle was transported away from the place Alucard grew up!”

“Do we think he would go back there?”

Trevor looks to Sypha who says, “Perhaps. Alucard grew up in the highlands, near the border,” she furrows her brow, “I think he said Dracula moved it there to be closer to Lisa’s village.”

“So, if the below-ground structures still exist, it will be somewhere near where Alucard’s mother was from. But not close enough to get the attention of humans.”

“That would be in the northern Carpathians,” Violet offers, “My late husband, the father of our oldest, he was from the highlands. He often talked about the deep mountain valleys. Any of them could have hidden the castle from humans, if it was remote enough. Alucard has probably already worked out that he’s better off staying away from people, it would be the perfect shelter.”

“Ok then,” Trevor says slowly, “that will probably be where the tracking spell leads us. We won’t be walking blindly into this.”

“Hopefully that brilliant idiot can hold out until the tracking spell is complete,” I mumble.

xxx

Adrielle

No one told me tracking spells take ages. Sypha activated the working the same day she used my magic to create the anchor for it, but it’s just been whirring away in the lab ever since. That was at least a week ago.

I’m not getting out of bed today, or tomorrow, probably. I’m too tired to move.

xxx

Another two days of nothingness. I’m trying to get back to my old routines, when I have the energy. But that’s hard when I keep having those waking nightmares every time I try to leave my room.

I don’t know why, but I have this strange feeling that if I can just stick to my usual routines— eat the same food, go for the same morning walk, read passages of the same book that I did in the days before we left Belmont— then everything will be ok.

I shouldn’t have hissed at Christopher when he tried to take me by the arm this morning. I was on my way to the gardens for a walk when he tried to get my attention by grabbing me, I didn’t see him coming. I never found out what he wanted because I ran and hid.

I’m back in my room now, staring out the window, too exhausted even to read my favorite books. The cats are staying close, draping themselves all over me when I’m in bed. I’m so glad to have their company, because almost no one else is talking to me since I came home. I wonder if they’re mad at me about something.

Everyone is pointedly avoiding telling me anything about what’s actually going on. I couldn’t help tati, and nearly died trying to get home on my own. Maybe they think I can’t handle this. Maybe they’re right.

I’ll just keep to myself, for now. I don’t want to get in the way, in case they’re close to finding tati. To that end, I’m spending the day in tati’s library. Hardly anyone comes in here, whereas the big castle libraries are always full of other people.

I can’t sit still long enough to actually read anything, so I decide to pull out a few of the maps from the shelf, kneeling on the floor to pour over them. I run my fingers over the sketchy representations of Wallachia, looking for the curve of the mountain range I was abducted to.

When I find it, my heart drops into my stomach. Seeing that place drawn on a map makes it more real, somehow. It wasn’t a dream, I really was lost in those valleys, and tati is still out there.

Putting the big map aside so I don’t send myself into another waking bad dream, I yank another heavy roll of vellum off the shelf. It plunks down hard onto my knees, dust puffing into my face. Unrolling the layers reveals early survey maps of our valley— the land around the castle, and the mountains. Tati must have drawn these when Belmont was first being settled.

I can transpose the whole city and all the outlands onto the page perfectly in my head. My fingers trace over blank spaces were roads have now been laid, and a patch of dense forest that’s now the university district.

My whole body fills with so much love for this place that it’s actually a little uncomfortable. My family, and all the people who live here, have worked so hard to build this place into everything we dreamed it could be. Now, there is a siege army camped outside our walls. And our strongest soldier and best defender is gone.

Our own forces and diplomats are facing the danger head-on. We’re in good hands. But without tati, I feel so alone and exposed here. Belmont doesn’t feel like home without him. Nowhere ever could, my tati is my home.

Something on the map catches my eye just as I’m rolling it up. I thought it was just an ink smudge, but it’s a different color than the rest of the markings. There’s an oblong spot over a place deep in the forests behind the castle. There’s nothing out that way, as far as I know, the woods are too dense to build or farm.

I stare at the rusty stain for several minutes until my brain finally makes sense of it. The spot is a thumbprint, and I think it was made with blood. Why would tati mark a survey map with his blood? What’s out there that he didn’t want to forget?

My head is starting to hurt again. The foamy sunlight is waning, and I’m ready to go back to bed. This exhaustion just won’t lift, and my stomach has been growling all day. Sypha is helping me keep my strength up by helping me use my restorative magic on myself. It doesn’t really work. And it doesn’t make me less hungry. But she says we need to ration my preserved blood stock. She’s careful not to remind me why. No one is talking to me lately.

xxx

Alucard

Shut up. Please, shut up.

The voice in my mind is becoming clearer every day, it’s getting harder to ignore.

I’ve managed to make this place livable, if only slightly. The hearth in the old servant’s kitchen holds a fire sufficient to heat the space, even though I had to tear through years of root growth in the chimney in order to light it. At least I won’t freeze to death.

I have never known cold like this. Autumn is approaching, and this storm is hastening its arrival, but the temperature hasn’t dropped far enough that I should feel it this keenly. No matter what I do, I cannot seem to get warm. The heat of the fire touches my skin, yet beneath, it’s as though my veins are filled with ice.

The fever spikes and recedes every few days. I’ve only allowed myself to kill two or three deer that have wandered into the old castle yard. Just enough to keep myself alive, but no more. Keeping my body weak makes it more difficult for the curse to hold sway for long.

I lie by the fire on my bed of musty grain sacks, still unable to catch my breath. The winds had finally died down, and I wanted to go out to the stream to get water. But on my way back to the grounds, something strange pricked in the back of my mind. I couldn’t place the feeling, but it was somehow familiar. Like a friend standing beside me, though I was alone among the pines.

A moment later, the curse caught the familiar feeling too, and blazed furiously. It took several minutes to fully come back to myself, I tried to count every endless second so I could know how much time I’d lost. I’m losing myself for longer and longer every time.

I waited for that other, unnatural presence in me to rise close to the surface, doing my best to relax my guard through the pain and creeping seduction of my remaining senses. When, at last, it drew close enough, I attempted to quickly wrap it up in my own will and wrench it from my core.

Within seconds though, the curse’s strength overmastered me, and I was forced to relinquish my meager hold. The effort drained me, leaving me lightheaded and nauseous. I’ve tried this a few times, but to no avail. It’s the only thing I can think to do. There is nothing in this old place that I can use to set myself free. I have only my waning resolve to rely on.

And I hope it’s only the exhaustion, but I’m having more and more trouble telling where I end and the curse begins.

When it takes hold, and even when it’s lying in wait, I can hear it chattering away. It almost never stops. But I no longer hear that mad magician’s voice. No, now I’m forced to endure something much worse.

I will not admit— even to myself, for I am no longer alone in my own skin— that I still remember these voices. I remember them whispering sweet things while they took me apart.

Now, I’m on my back by the dimming hearth, still winded, and wondering what the hell I’m going to do. Unfortunately, this old basement has provided little else than shelter. I’ve gone over every cabinet and case, every drawer and pantry— nothing.

 Yes, I’m far from anyone I could hurt, but I can’t remain here forever.

I lost track of the days fairly quickly. The pain and weakness made it impossible to stay awake for long, once I finally felt safe.

Thankfully, the sensations of the curse trying to take control are so unpleasant that I wake instantly if it tries. But I have no idea how long I’ve been here. It must be nearly three weeks by now, maybe longer.

In my lowest moments, such as now, I wonder about simply allowing myself to starve. Killing its host will most likely extinguish the curse, problem solved.

But what of Elle? If she made it home— no, not ‘if.’ She did, she made it back.

The curse gnaws at my insides, mocking in its oily, little voices. The way it always does when I think of Elle. So, nearly constantly.

You killed her, she whispers.

She isn’t waiting for you, he sneers.

Give in.

I press my hands over my throbbing eyes and command it to be quiet, but I know it won’t listen.

You killed her. You killed her. You killed her.

“Shut up!”

A stab through my temple. I can’t even tell if it’s the pain clause reacting to my defiance, or just the effort of raising my voice.

“You want me to believe you? Then let me feel my body properly, let me access my full senses. Refuse, and I’ll know you’re still cloaking her from me.”

My hand rests absently over the place where I used to feel Elle’s essence. I don’t know when I started talking to the curse like it’s a person, I’m not even sure its aware in any meaningful way, but it helps. It’s easier to imagine this ugly power inside me as only another consciousness, rather than an infection slowly eating away at me. Then, I can imagine it can be convinced, reasoned with. And that keeps me fighting back. But it got so much louder after I killed the ghouls that were hunting me.

I will not hear it, she lives, I have to believe that. But if I can’t get home soon, Elle won’t survive much longer. I never anticipated being away from her for so long, I haven’t stored up enough blood for her. But even if I could go home tomorrow, would my blood still be of any use to her?

I couldn’t stop thinking about what that ghoul said when he fed on me, I tasted like acid to him. So, I’d actually paid attention the next time I bit into my arm to stay in my body, and, indeed, it does. My own blood burned my tongue, like swallowing embers.

What if I can’t feed Elle anymore? What will happen to her? Will Sypha and the other mages be able to formulate something synthetic for her to drink? Perhaps they can work out some other way to nourish her. Or, perhaps, I’ve killed us both.

I’m not even sure I want my family to find me. If not for my daughter’s sake, I might wish to be left out here. I don’t like to think how the curse will react, should it sense my loved ones drawing near.

xxx

Sypha

“Trevor! Trevor, wake up!”

His eyes snap open and he sits up, throwing the blankets back.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“The tracking spell worked!” I squeal, I’m smiling so wide my cheeks hurt, “It finally locked on during the night. We were right.”

“The highlands?”

“The highlands.”

He kisses me fiercely and I fall on top of him so we can embrace.

“Thank god,” he whispers, “You’re amazing, Sypha. I’ll get a party together this morning. Let me up, we need to gather the family, we need to finalize the plan.”

xxx

Adrielle

Something’s happening! Noises from the floor below my room wake me in the early morning. I jump out of bed so fast that my head spins. I ignore it, following the excited voices down to the sitting room. The cats trail after me, hoping this will lead to food.

I’m nearly vibrating with nerves by the time I reach the bottom of the apartment stairs. Careful not to make a sound, I crouch behind the wall and listen closely. Christopher’s is the first voice I hear.

“I went down to the training center at first light. Three of your students agreed to take the assignment, on condition of nondisclosure.”

I’m impressed, he sounds so grown up and serious.

“Good,” uncle Trevor says, “and your mum can spare us the mage who helped her make the tracking spell. That makes five.”

“Six, actually.”

“Who else?” asks Soleil around a mouthful of breakfast.

“Me.”

“Absolutely not!” Trevor and Sypha chorus.

“You’ll never make it past the ghouls without me. I know this city better than almost anyone, I can find you a way out. In exchange, I’m coming with you. I’m not letting you go out there, into god-knows-what, with only students for backup.”

“You’re only a student yourself,” Sypha reminds him.

“But I’m a Belmont, and a trained soldier. I can wield a consecrated whip, and I’ve got enough magic to be useful in a fight. I’m going with you.”

Whips, fights? The thought is unsettling. What are they expecting to find wherever they’re going? I peer around the wall. They’re arranged on the sofas, breakfast on their laps.

Soleil sighs, “He might have a point. Chris is a good hunter, and Alucard knows him. The two of you might be more useful together.”

My heart skips. They found him!

Uncle Trevor purses his lips like he’s considering Sol’s words.

“Fine. I can’t argue that you deserve a chance to play your part. But I don’t want you anywhere near Alucard when we get there. And if there’s any sign of trouble, you get far away.”

Chris opens his mouth to counter, but Soleil interrupts, “He can do that. Can’t you, Chris,” it is not a question.

Christopher nods once, holding his dad’s eyes, “If those are my orders.”

There’s an unmistakable gleam about him. He looks more like himself than he has for weeks, it lightens my heart to see him look so eager.

“We leave in an hour. Be ready,” uncle Trevor says.

I mean to.

On wobbly legs, I slip back to my room as quickly as possible. The cats have remained downstairs in hopes of polishing off the breakfast bowls. I don’t bother packing anything, the others will have already done that, and I don’t need much.

I secure my dagger to my leg and pull on Sol’s old cloak. I’m terrified. So terrified that the room is spinning around me. The idea of seeing tati again makes my skin go clammy and my blood pound in my ears. But if they’re going after him, I’m going with them. Maybe this time I can actually get through to him. I have to try.

The stables are humming quietly with activity when I arrive downstairs ahead of uncle Trevor and Christopher. I climb up into the rafters to wait for them.

I don’t have to wait long. The entire party assembles in about twenty minutes. Sypha has come down, too, and is speaking to uncle Trevor as he readies his horse under the cover of the stables. Sol and Chris stand off to the side of the rainy yard, heads together. They are examining what looks like a tiny spell scroll, before Chris sticks it back in his pocket.

I alight as quietly as I can, but Sypha must sense me coming because she turns to me before I’ve even touched the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks, patiently.

“I’m going with you,” I say to uncle Trevor, grateful my voice doesn’t crack.

“No, you’re not.”

“Please—”

“No.”

Sypha puts a hand on my hair and I swat her away, frustration rising.

“I know I messed up before, when it was just me and tati out there. But I can help this time, I know I can.”

Trevor’s eyes go all soft, like he feels sorry for me, “You didn’t mess anything up, Elle. Nothing that happened was your fault. But you’re not coming, and that’s that.”

“Because you think he’ll try to kill me again? I survived once, didn’t I?”

I know I shouldn’t have said that, but I don’t take it back, either.

“And you won’t ever have to face anything like that ever again.”

“You can’t promise that!” I shout, voice cracking around the words, “Even if I keep myself alive with scraps of magic for a few more weeks—”

“I won’t let you starve,” Sypha interrupts, hugging me around the shoulders, “We’ll find a more permanent solution.”

She winces, she knows it’s a thin promise.

I cover my face with my hands for a moment, trying to collect myself, “Fine, let’s say I live forever. What then?” I look straight into Trevor’s face, willing him to understand, “You won’t always be here to look after me. You, Sypha, Chris and Sol, Greta… you’ll all be dead one day. And I’ll still be here, all alone! So, tell me, Trevor, what happens to me if you can’t save tati?”

Uncle Trevor takes in a long, slow breath. The silence in the wake of my outburst is deafening. I hadn’t realized all of this had been boiling in me since the moment tati stepped into that spell circle. Now, weeks of fear and loneliness pour out of me all at once. I’m crying so hard I can’t see clearly, and my throat burns from shouting.

The brothers approach and look between us, trying to figure out what’s going on. Sypha crouches down, petting me and saying it’ll all be ok. But it won’t be. Right now, I can’t believe anything will ever be ok again.

I wipe my eyes as Trevor comes to kneel before me. At first, I think he’s about to try to comfort me, but there’s something strange about his posture.

With one knee to the ground, and a hand on his heart, he says solemnly, “Adrielle, I promise you the protection and friendship of House Belmont, for all your days. I vow every generation of our line, from now until the very end, will honor and keep this promise. For your sake, and the sake of your father’s legacy. Of which, you are the crowning jewel.”

I’m struck dumb. I’ve never heard him talk like this, not ever. My face is wet again, and so is Sypha’s. Christopher and Soleil share a look, then kneel. The heirs to the Belmont line affirm their father’s promise, saying, “You’re not alone,” and, “You will always have a family, so long as there are Belmonts in the world.”

“Ok,” I rasp, “then, you have to make me one more promise before I’ll let you go.”

“Hmm? What’s that?” Trevor hums indulgently.

I throw my arms around his neck and hold on as hard as I can, “Promise you’ll come home safe. I’m not ready to live without you.”

Uncle Trevor lifts me off my feet as he stands, holding me to him like tati does. Sypha is rubbing circles on my back. I don’t feel so alone anymore.

“I promise.”

The students arrive in the stable yard to join their captain. I’m set back down, and Sypha takes my hand, like she’s not completely sure I won’t bolt after them anyway.

Sol comes to my other side and pats my hair. I don’t think he’s ever done that before. He’s all grown up now.

“Here,” he says softly, wrapping his scarf about my neck, “keep the cold off the wound, it won’t hurt as much.”

I thought I’d been hiding it well. Guess not.

With a few more goodbyes, the men mount up and ride out into the rain. I reach under my cloak to feel for my pendant, rubbing it in my fingers and trying to convince myself everything will be fine.

xxx

Trevor

“Stay low,” I whisper over my shoulder.

Christopher is a few paces ahead of the rest of us, peering around a bend to check we’re still alone.

“Not far now,” he tells me, “we’re almost at the wall. Across this lane, and out through the storm grate. Twenty paces, at most.”

The other members of our party don’t respond out loud, but remain on their toes, ready to move when Chris does. I have confidence in our backup, three vanquisher trainees and a student mage, but I still wish I’d gone it alone. In any other situation, we might be able to gage what we’re walking in to, but this is new territory, even for me.

I’ve been hunting vampires since I was fifteen years old, but none of them were carrying a corruption curse. None of them were my friend, or godfather to my sons.

Chris gives the signal, and we creep across the deserted lane to the base of the city wall. We have to skirt around some now-abandoned homes, everyone in this neighborhood has been evacuated to the castle and other shelter until this is finished.

“I can already smell them,” says Mica the mage, “I didn’t know ghouls stunk like that.”

“That’s corrupted magic, for you,” Christopher replies, “the whole valley reeks of it. Worse than before. Here we are.”

He grabs hold of the rusted bars of the grate and heaves it away from the wall.

“From here on, not a word until I say. Got it?” I say.

I crawl through first, leaving Chris to bring up the rear. Its dank and wet in here, the base of the short tunnel six inches deep with slimy water. But there is no other safe way out of the city that wouldn’t add an extra day onto the trip. Belmont is almost completely surrounded, except through the deep forests behind the castle. And just because we haven’t seen any enemies out there, doesn’t mean there are none.

We emerge from the drain tunnel into an empty yard, from here it’s a straight shot to the foothills. In another mile or two, we’ll find a farm and purchase horses. I don’t think these invaders have the brains or experience to know they should have also secured the farming provinces. There’s more to a city than just what’s inside the walls.

When Christopher rejoins me at the front, now that we’re finally able to walk upright, I pat his back and he smirks like a cat that’s got the cream. It’s good to see him looking so sure of himself. Soleil was right, Chris is a solid hunter. Hopefully, I’ve taught him well enough to handle whatever waits for us in the highlands.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers when we’re a good distance from the city, “do you think we’ll pass that castle Elle was taken to?”

“It’s not on any of our maps, but it wouldn’t be hard to find. Why?”

“She wrote that it was being used as a base of operations, or a hideout. Jun might still be there. We could end all of this. Take their leader before they’re finally given the order to attack.”

“If we pass the castle, we’ll do a little reconnaissance. But I’d rather do that with a dedicated squad.”

“And what are we?” sniffs Mica, good naturedly, “We’re only here to make sure you two don’t get yourselves killed.”

“I meant soldiers.”

“Too bad we can’t spare any,” Chris finishes.

“I said we’ll check it out. If he’s still there alone, we’ll grab him.”

I don’t let the others see me roll my eyes. There is no way it will be that easy. It never is.

xxx

Adrielle

“Sypha?”

“Yes?”

“Why does your magic feel so hot this time?”

She pauses and pulls her hand away from the spell scroll between us. I’m sitting on the floor of my room with aunt Sypha kneeling in front of me. Soleil watches from the edge of my bed.

“It feels hot? Does it hurt?”

“I guess so. It’s prickly, like really tiny needles.”

Sypha bites her lip and hums, bewildered.

“That should not be.”

“Mum?” Sol hedges.

Sypha looks into my eyes, “It could mean the magic isn’t penetrating. It’s collecting at the surface, instead of weaving into you.”

I just wait quietly. I don’t have the energy to say much today.

“Do you want me to get anything from your stores?” asks Sol, already moving to get up, “Another loadstone? Maybe there are some plants that could help?”

“No, we’ll just have to press on. Can you do that, Elle?”

I nod, but I don’t want to continue. I’m tired. Sypha is supposed to be helping my restorative magic stick better, so I can use it in place of blood to keep going. But these daily workings only seem to make me feel worse.

I mirror aunt Sypha and place my hands by hers on the paper again. The circle drawn there begins to glow. She pushes her own power into it, and I open myself to let it climb up into me. The magic sparks my healing ability, I feel it slowly kindle. But it dies out in the next moment, leaving me dizzy and itchy all over.

“It didn’t work,” Sol says, voice wavering slightly, “Can you try again?”

“Not today, Elle needs to rest.”

“Should I get her some blood from the laboratory?”

“There isn’t any more. We used the last when the working failed yesterday.”

“So, what do we do?” he isn’t shouting, but the pitch of his voice still sends a spike of pain through my head.

“Let’s just let Elle sleep for a while. Why don’t you go down to the infirmary and see if they could use any help?”

Soleil takes his cue to leave us alone, and slips quietly from the room.

“Do you need anything?”

I happen to glance down at Sypha’s work basket as she’s packing away her tools for spell work. Slotted into an outside pocket is a red notebook. Instantly, I recognize the arrow-shaped caps on the corners. Tati used to write in that! He had it with him every day when I was new.

“Could you get my favorite blanket? It’s in the sitting room.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back.”

As I hoped, she leaves her basket with me.

The second I’m alone, I slip the little book from its pocket and crawl over to hide it under my bed. Then I climb beneath the sheets and pull them over my head, the dim light is starting to make my head pound.

I must have drifted off a bit, because the next thing I’m aware of is Sypha draping my blanket over me, and pulling back the covers to kiss my head.

“Sleep well, sweetling.”

xxx

Christopher

Our journey takes nearly ten days on horseback. We could have done it in a week, but dad insisted we stay off the main roads, and avoid leaving much trace of ourselves. Less chance any wandering ghouls or night creatures will come looking for us.

Dad’s students are expert outdoorsmen, living off the land is something my dad drills into everyone he teaches— even Soleil and I. Mica the mage isn’t faring quite as well. Apparently, he was the one magic trainee that requested not to go along with mum when she and the cohort went out in search of the source of the dark magic.

Everyone is exhausted by the time we’re deep into the mountain range were Dracula’s castle once stood. Even the horses are spent, because we couldn’t change them safely, so they’ve been going flat out since we left Belmont.

The weather is even worse up here, if that’s possible. There are flurries of snow and the clouds are so thick it always looks like evening, ever at noon.

I keep expecting to run into rogue packs of vampires, but the only foe we cross paths with is a manticore. Poor thing was half starved to death, I almost felt bad for it. I guess Elle’s fondness for monsters is contagious.

Dad does an admirable job keeping our spirits up. He tells us stories around our tiny fire every night, and scatters shorter tales throughout the long days spent plodding through the mountains. He never went back out on the road like mum did, so it kind of surprises me that so many of his stories about hunting and fighting are from after Sol and I were born.

I know he had a hard life before he met mum and Alucard, but I’ve only ever known him as the dad who stayed close to home to raise us. It’s nice to know he’s still had lots of adventures. Only this time, he had a home to come back to.

“That must be it!” I call back to the party.

From the peak of the bluff, I can see crumbling walls and a neglected courtyard. This is a castle in the old sense of the word, mostly just a small fortress with a few out buildings for servants and soldiers.

Dad comes up to join me, keeping low in the scrubby grass, “You’d never guess anyone was living there recently.”

“It fits Elle’s description. That’s Jun's hideout, for sure.”

“I’m going to tell the others to stay put, I want a look inside. You with me?”

“Always.”

The castle appears completely undefended. Dad and I pick our way across the heath to the walls of the garden and hide ourselves in the dead shrubbery.

“There’s nobody around,” I whisper, “I can’t sense anything.”

“Let’s go through the windows up there, that has to be the main hall.”

We use our whips to grab hold of the run-off spouts overhead, and scale up the wall. The masonry cracks a little under our boots, the broken slivers patter to the ground like rain. The noise sends goosebumps down my arms.

Inside the cavernous hall, the feeling of emptiness only grows. The air is heavy and wet, but there’s the faint scent of candle wax still hanging around.

“I have the feeling we might have just missed him,” I say.

Dad hums, “Yeah, but by how long? And what does it mean that he’s on the move? He’s been so careful not to get too close until now.”

I snort, “Until he decided to abduct two of our people in the middle of the night. You don’t think he’s on his way to Belmont, do you?”

“He better not be.”

“But if he is?”

“Then we need to wrap this mess up quickly. I want Alucard the hell away from this guy if he’s about to make his move.”

I chew my lip as we search the hall, mindful not to move too far from each other. As I’m crossing the room to examine the large, shattered mirror by the doors, something on the flagstones catches my eye.

“Dad, look. On the floor!”

Beneath our feet is a massive alchemical circle, cut through with scorch marks. My blood runs cold.

“This is it,” I breathe, “this is the curse.”

Dad takes my arm and pulls me away, “Christ, this is serious stuff.”

I dig in my pack for chalk and some paper, “I’m going to copy it down and see if I can spell it back to mum. It might be useful.”

“Good. I’m going to check out the lower levels, just to be sure.”

I light one of the torches on the wall, and do my best by the shifting light to draw the circle accurately. I don’t understand much of it, but I catch a couple of symbols and runes I can actually read. One of them looks like part of a pain clause, the other is clearly persuasive in nature. Jun's messenger wasn’t lying, this thing is designed to bring Alucard entirely under the caster’s control.

Don’t think about it, just stay focused. When I finish my sketch, I do my best to summon the right amount of magic, and hold the paper out in front of me. Blue-white flames lick the edges for a moment before the whole sheet catches and burns away to nothing. I actually send up a prayer that it will reach mum all the way back home.

Dad returns then, shaking his head, “There are bodies in the cells down there.”

“How many?”

“Half a dozen. There’s another circle, too, but smaller.”

“He must have been testing the working, to see if he could handle it.”

“Elle did say it wasn’t originally Jun's magic, that he picked it up from someone else.”

My lip curls and I scoff, “What? He couldn’t figure it out for himself, so he had to steal another, more powerful magician’s tricks? Must have got that from his parents.”

Dad gives me a disapproving look, but doesn’t tell me off. It wasn’t an easy choice for him and mum to tell Sol and I about what they’d read in Alucard’s old journal, I shouldn’t take it so lightly.

“Sorry, that was too far.”

“I won’t tell, if you won’t. Come on, let’s regroup, we’re losing the light already.”

xxx

The following night, I wake in the small hours with the feeling that something isn’t right. I sit up on my mat and rub the cold from my hands as I look around.

How long have I been asleep? I was supposed to take third watch, after dad, but I feel like I’ve slept for longer than I should have. Camp is quiet, everyone is on their mats, curled up against the chill. But the horses are twitchy. I pull on my boots and get silently to my feet, creeping to the tree line.

We’re camped on a high ridge, overlooking a deep, thickly forested valley that runs like an artery through two towering peaks. From below, the wind carries the woody smoke from a wet fire, and the heavy, ugly magic I’ve gotten too used to. It’s so thick here that my head swims with it.

I catch the barest glint of moonlight on the chain of the Morningstar much further down the ridge, and it’s moving. Keeping low behind the plant cover, I hurry to catch up with dad. I don’t want to risk calling out, in case someone or something else hears us.

Typical Trevor Belmont, he just has to go it alone. Not that trailing after him in the dark, to a place we know a corrupted vampire is hiding, is any smarter. Mum’s going to kill us both.

As I near the floor of the valley, I can just make out the silhouette of a tall gate and broken walls. The yard inside looks like an over-grown patch of brambles and weeds, but somewhere below, there’s a winding series of basement rooms.

Dad stands in the middle of the yard, turning in a circle, taking in as much as he can in the dark. Then, a pulse of something fiery and foul floods up from beneath the earth, and dad takes hold of the Morningstar.

Alucard knows we’re here. And I don’t think he’s going to be relieved to see us, after all. His rage, or the rage of the curse, is palpable even from where I’m standing.

“Dad!” I call, “We have to get out of here, this is not a good idea!”

If I know my dad, he doesn’t agree. Any risk is worth taking for the sake of a friend. But this might be taking his noble-streak too far.

He turns to me, like he’s about to reply. But he can’t get his words out before he’s cut off by another eruption of power which blasts out the wooden cellar doors.

Mist, darker than the night, pours from the mouth of the stairway— filling the decaying yard and blocking out the moon.

“Run!” dad screams, but its already too late.

The blackness encircles the yard, creating a barrier we don’t dare cross. Even touching it could be dangerous, there’s no telling what would happen if it got inside us.

Above the ground, the mist begins to coalesce into an almost familiar figure. If I didn’t know we had come here looking for Alucard, I might not have recognized him. The being before us, slowly sharpening into focus, is totally unlike my godfather.

This creature is every bit the vampire— gleaming fangs, claws dark with dried blood, eyes burning a grotesque, bloody red. An unnatural, inhuman kind of rage rolls off him. That same dark power that’s been on the land for months is so heavily concentrated in Alucard that dad staggers back when it hits him.

Dad calls to his old friend, hoping in vain to get through before this can go any further. But I can already see plainly what my dad can’t, this is no longer Alucard. If he’s in there, he’s trapped so deep beneath the curse that he won’t be able to stop what comes next.

Alucard’s puppet body collects sparking, flickering power into its hands, and looses it on dad. The earth explodes where he was standing, but he’s already flung himself out of the way.

Without another thought, I let my whip fly. I’m expecting an impact of some kind, but the tail only sails right through its target, Alucard’s form breaking and reforming like smoke. He watches me for a moment, gleeful intent dancing in his eyes, despite his fury and bloodlust.

A throwing knife from dad also fails to connect, plunking uselessly down into the wet dirt. Another blast, another explosion of weeds and mud. I cover my head, and when I look up dad is standing between me and Alucard, Morningstar at the ready.

Alucard makes a sound like I’ve never heard from any monster, a shrieking, hissing screech, teeth bared. Hellfire crackles all over him. Alucard flashes towards us, and dad throws the Morningstar. The two forces collide, and the whips sacred magic prevails. The resulting blaze illuminates the entire valley, filling every dark space between the trees with brilliant light.

The reeking mist clears, and dad and I bolt for the cover of the forest. Behind us, I catch Alucard’s voice, raw and pleading. But I can’t hear what he says over the roaring in my ears. I think I catch the splintering of stone and wood, as if Alucard had crashed into something.

We run flat out, breath puffing around us.

“Don’t stop,” dad pants, “don’t look back!”

I can feel the instant he goes down. One second, he’s on my heels, covering me, and the next he’s gone. Dad orders me to keep going, but I don’t listen. And I don’t give myself a moment to think twice.

Alucard has struck him with a blast, and is fast approaching through the trees. I race back down the path, letting momentum carry me. I throw myself against Alucard before he can reach dad, bringing my short sword down as hard as I can into his shoulder. With any luck, I’ll literally pin him to the ground long enough to get dad back on his feet.

Alucard hisses, neck straining back like he’s fighting with himself. Instinct tells me to twist my blade, the pain seems to be bringing him round.

“Go,” he chokes, “go now!”

He flashes out from under me, but retreats back in the direction of the old castle basements. I breathe a sigh of relief and pick myself up out of the mud.

“Come on,” I go to him and try to help him stand. But he only moans when I tug on his arm.

It’s too dark to see much. I loop his arm around my shoulders and do my best to haul him up, but I only succeed in turning him on to his back. My hands are suddenly covered in warm, sticky blood. Alucard’s magic has torn a wide gash in dad’s abdomen— and he’s already losing consciousness.

“Dad! Dad, wake up!”

He doesn’t respond, not even to tell me to run for it. Even if I could get him back to camp, he would never survive the journey home.

Frantic, and out of options, I fish in my pockets for the spell scroll Soleil gave me weeks ago. Distantly, I realize this spell was formulated to work over a much shorter distance, from that monastery to Belmont. But I have no other choice.

Summoning as much power as I can, I pour everything I’ve got into the spell. The scroll flares up, and its magical flames climb onto dad.

“Take him home, take him home,” I chant over and over. It isn’t part of the spell, but speaking my intention aloud feels like the right thing to do.

The flames burn so bright that I have to close my eyes, and when I open them again, he’s gone.

xxx

Adrielle

Shouting down in the courtyard yanks me out of my bad dream. I shuffle to the window and open the case. Below, Sypha, Soleil, and two other mages are gathered around someone lying on the stones.

I make my way downstairs, arriving in the sitting room just as aunt Violet comes crashing through the main apartment door.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Trevor,” she says, hardly able to catch her breath, “Soleil says Christopher sent him home with a transport spell. He’s hurt.”

“Was it tati?”

That brings her up short.

“I— I don’t know, honey.”

Then it must have been, otherwise she would say it outright.

“What do you need?”

“Help me get the mirror working,” she says, placing her hands on the frame of the huge distance mirror, “I need to contact Greta at the walls.”

Before either of us can do anything, the mirror activates. Violet jumps back, pulling me behind her.

“Did you do that?”

“No. Maybe its Greta.”

“It couldn’t be, there hasn’t been time for her to have heard anything.”

“But only family can use our mirror.”

All at once, I understand her fear. The only one of us not accounted for is tati. If he’s lost control enough to hurt Trevor, and he’s found a way through to Belmont, we’re all be in very real danger.

My legs shake so hard I’m surprised I’m able to stand. I want so badly to see him again, but I hope to god it’s not him.

The glass clears, and for one disorienting moment, I’m terrified my prayer wasn’t answered. I look into an angular face so familiar, my heart leaps into my throat. Yet, I know I’ve never seen this woman before. Except in portraits.

She steps into the sitting room, hands held before her as if to signal she means no harm.

“My name is Lisa,” she says in a gentle voice I’ve sometimes heard in my tati’s memories, “I’d like to know what’s happened to my son.”

Chapter Text

xxx

Alucard

Lashing wind carries their scent to me from high in the mountains. The curse reacts the moment I sense humans drawing near. It roils and surges, making my stomach clench with hunger pains. But through the delirium, I slowly realize that I know those scents— Trevor, Christopher, and a few others I cannot name, though they’re all definitely human.

When I recognize them, the curse quiets somewhat, relaxing its hold for the moment. I’m too exhausted to wonder why it would do such a thing, when it had done exactly the opposite in response to Adrielle’s presence.

All day I’ve worked to prevent it taking hold. Its whispering voice entices me to leave the shelter of the old basements to hunt, droning on and on about the relief fresh blood would bring. Even a fox will do. My teeth ache with the need to bite into warm flesh.

But I cannot trust myself. If I leave my hiding place, I do not know what will happen, or what I may do. Here, I’m safe, and others are safe from me. I plan to stay exactly where I am, and keep silent. And simply hope this valley is too densely forested and too soaked in dark magic for the Belmonts to find their way. I silently pray they’ll give up and return home, even as my heart lifts just a little at the thought of someone finally coming to find me. I miss them terribly.

I must drift off on the mist of pain and fatigue, because the next thing I know I’m gasping awake to the sound of footsteps overhead. The curse blazes, taking hold in seconds. In the moment before I’m dragged under the boiling sea, I feel my body move swiftly to the surface, all sluggishness gone now the curse holds full sway.

I lose time. Frantically, I fight to regain control, summoning what strength I can. It’s difficult, the curse is drawing on my power to attack. Distantly, I take in Trevor and Christopher before me, but my fear for their safety is quickly drowned in a bloodlust like I’ve never felt before.

I knew if I could not stop myself, I would kill them both, and I would revel in it. I call for them to run, but my voice can’t escape my lips.

Trevor looses the Morningstar, it’s power winning out when it clashes with mine. The force of the strike gives me just a few moments to slip back into my body. I sink my teeth into my arm, but the pain isn’t enough to ground me. I’m too accustomed to it after so long.

My body seizes up each time the curse tries to overpower me, but I do not relinquish my hold. Wrenching my head back, I tear a piece of flesh from my forearm. Blood runs dark and thick down my neck.

Enraged at my defiance, the corrupted, sickly magic lances into me again and again until it can force me back under. The next thing I can be sure of is the bright sting of a blade piercing my shoulder. I climb the pain of it back to the surface to find Christopher’s mud-streaked face above me.

Struggling for breath, I gather what I can of my strength and flash out from under him. I crash through the trees which seem to lean down towards me, reaching out with their bows to snatch my hair and prick my skin.

Time throbs around me like the blood pounding in my head. My awareness comes and goes for what feels like hours. I don’t recall returning to the old grounds, instinct simply carries me back below the earth— where its dark and safe.

When at last the damp, still cellar begins to feel real around me again, I’m hit with the pungent sweetness of human blood. I wait, frozen where I’m propped uselessly against the splintered, stone wall, but I can’t hear anyone up above. If it isn’t the other hunters come down from the mountain, where is that scent coming from?

I can barely stand on my shaking legs. Trying to keep myself from falling, I hold onto the wall as I make my way back to my sad, little bed by the empty hearth.

Watery memories swirl behind my eyes, and those sneering voices resume their babbling. The curse pushes and prods against my mind, like it wants to show me something. I don’t want to see whatever it is. I cannot bear this right now.

Please, just let me rest.

I suppose I could spend the rest of the night resisting, or I can get it over with. Maybe then I’ll be able to rest for an hour or so.

Slowly, I lower my guard and a nipping at the back of my mind directs my attention down to my hands. I’m covered from shoulder to claw in blood, the wound I left in my forearm is still leaking.

But… no. This blood isn’t only mine. Trevor’s familiar scent clings to my marred flesh. I am soaked in his blood. So much blood.

“What did I do?” my stuttering voice barely makes it out into the cold air.

The curse laughs mockingly and pushes further into my consciousness.

Trevor and Christopher fleeing into the forest.

Rage building in my chest. Desperate longing to taste their blood, to drink them dry.

Trevor turning to face me. My perverted magic slicing through him.

I can feel so keenly the satisfaction of watching him clutch at himself before he fell, trying to keep his innards from spilling onto the forest floor.

I choke out my disbelief, clasping a sticky hand over my mouth— I cannot take the effort of screaming. The reflex of weeks and weeks tells me to deny it, to resist the memories dripping slowly back to me. But even as I try to tell myself it isn’t true, I know the curse isn’t lying. It has never lied, everything it has ever put before me has been real.

Ellie in the forest, the ghouls in the mountains, the twins, and now…

I’ve killed my oldest friend.

There can be no return from this. What does it matter now? Even if I could find a way to free myself, I could never go home. I could never face them after this.

And, if I’m to accept that the curse has no need to show me lies, or false memories—

No.

I drop onto my mat and pull up my knees, tucking myself into as small a space as possible.

Ellie. My little Ellie.

I’ve known since that very day that she couldn’t have survived what I did to her. The wounds were too extensive, the blood loss would have been catastrophic. She was so small, she’d have bled out in minutes.

Now, lying alone in the dark, skin clammy with drying blood, I can’t run from the truth any longer. She’s gone, and it’s my fault.

If this curse— if that demented mage— wants me to give in, I shall do so gladly, at last. But I’ll be damned twice if I allow him to have his way with me.

No, I’ll make this damp cellar my tomb. Simply never emerge from here again, allow myself to starve, and pray the curse will not be able to pilot a dead thing.

Hopefully, with my death, I can end this madness… and atone.

xxx

Adrielle

She just stares at me, recognizing the same features in me that I see in her, blue eyes brimming with something unnamable.

Aunt Violet, who still stands between us, speaks up in a wavering voice, “You can’t be the Lady Lisa. She’s been dead more than twenty years.”

Lisa pulls her gaze away from me to address auntie, “I can explain, but first—”

Just then, Soleil bursts through the door of the apartment, panting and harried. That brings aunt Violet and I crashing back to the moment. Uncle Trevor is hurt!

“Mum needs her big loadstone, it’s in her work basket,” he says.

I return upstairs with Sol on my heels, we nearly trip over each other in our hurry to get to Trevor and Sypha’s bedchamber. I help him search for the basket, trying not to just tip over furniture and leave a trail of debris behind me.

“Got it!” I slide the basket out from under the bed and toss the hunk of clear crystal to Soleil, it’s so full of energy that it tingles in my palms.

We sprint back down the stairs, Sol flying down them three at a time.

“Soleil,” Lisa says, before he can crash back out the door.

He halts so abruptly that he almost tips over.

“Yes?” he replies hesitantly.

Now that he’s taking in our strange guest for the first time, what little color he had in his cheeks is draining away.

“Your father? He’s been injured?”

Violet seems to have told her what’s happening while we were upstairs. That may not have been the best idea, we don’t even know who or what she is yet. She can’t be Lisa, it’s impossible.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“I’m a physician, can you take me to your infirmary?”

Sol nods slowly and gestures for her to go through the door ahead of him. He glances back at me for confirmation that this is really happening. I remain completely still, unsure how to answer. I don’t know any more than he does.

xxx

Sypha

“Soleil, can you get me those herbs? On the table, there.”

He doesn’t move, only stands in the infirmary doorway, face slack.

“Soleil, I need you!”

My hands are covered in my partner’s blood and I can’t take them off the wound, or it will reopen. The other medics are busy preparing tools at the other end of the room. I don’t have any clue what I’m doing. I’m not a surgeon, my medical knowledge is far too limited.

All I know is Trevor is running out of time.

“Mum,” Soleil mutters, “you’re not going to believe this.”

“May I assist?” a woman’s voice asks from over my shoulder.

“Yes, I have to stop the internal bleeding before I can close the wound.”

“Let me,” she says.

I quickly pull my hands away, and move to the other side of the table.

“Hand me that instrument there, third in on the left.”

I do as I’m asked, but freeze with my arm suspended over Trevor’s open abdomen. For a moment, I think I’m looking at Alucard. Then, my vision clears and I gasp despite myself.

“How?”

The woman glances up at me briefly, with an expression that’s both amused and a little embarrassed.

“As I told your boy, I will explain,” Lisa Tepes says, “But, I think we should focus on saving your partner right now.”

xxx

Soleil

I can handle this. I have to be tough, for mum.

Time skips and bumps along like knotted fiber on a wheel. I follow the instructions from the physicians, and pay careful attention to their hands while they work.

More than once, I catch Lady Lisa watching me. It’s a bit unnerving, am I doing something wrong? She would tell me to back off if I was getting in the way, surely.

Even after we’ve stopped the worst of the internal bleeding, mum says dad’s still unstable. She explains to me, in a completely flat voice, how he was hit with unclean magic. And it’s draining him like it drained Elle.

That might be the most terrifying thing she could have said. Elle is still affected, weeks after exposure. More than she lets on, I’d bet.

That’s also due to poor nutrition now, but she was so damaged by the dark magic that she almost didn’t survive her first night back home. Now dad is dying of the same thing.

No, he’s not dying. He’ll be ok. Mum won’t let him leave us.

She curses and tries again to ignite her magic, “It won’t even start! There’s too much interference.”

“What do we do if it won’t start? How else do we extract the polluted magic?” I ask.

Lady Lisa and the more surgically experienced mage healer are nearly finished closing the gaping hole in dad’s stomach, the other is assisting mum with a working.

Lisa keeps glancing up from her hands, curious about what the magicians are doing, and watching to be sure it won’t cause further harm.

Mum exhales sharply and presses both hands to her spell book. Head hung low between her shoulders, she makes another attempt to spark the working. The lettering painted on dad’s blood-stained skin flashes and goes out half a dozen times before mum has to stop to catch her breath.

Panting, she turns to me, “Go down to the laboratory and get another loadstone, a big one. As quick as you can.”

“That won’t work,” says a small voice from the chamber door.

I didn’t even hear the door open. I’m so on edge that even the surprise of Elle’s quiet words makes me jump.

“Why not?” mum asks eagerly, stepping between Elle and the surgical table, so she won’t have to see this, “Do you know something about this power that you haven’t told me?”

Elle wrings her hands but her face is fixed and determined. Still, something about her is off. There’s a disquieting detachment in her eyes, like she’s miles away from herself. She’s usually so alert and curious.

“Before we left for the monastery, I had to pull this magic out of a lot of animals— normal ones, and night creatures.”

“And?” mum almost snaps.

Elle does her best to hide her flinch, “There’s something not right about it,” her voice is already beginning to fail her, “like it’s alive. But not like magic usually is. I don’t know how to explain.”

“Magic isn’t literally aware, not like people are,” mum says, trying to prompt her, “but it knows how to read our intentions and wishes. You’ve been closer to this stuff than any of us, what does it feel like to you?”

Elle furrows her brow, “Like a conversation. Whenever I interacted with it, I felt like I had to convince it to let go, as much as force it out. It helps if whoever is infected is willing to be cleansed.”

Mum gasps, clapping her hands together, “Of course! You used your inner voice to break through. But Trevor isn’t awake, do you think it would still work?”

Elle pauses to prod gently at her neck, “I don’t think it’s their mind I was speaking to, not entirely. So yes, I think I can reach him.”

Lisa sets her fine, metal tool down and steps back from the table, “We’re finished here, do what you need to.”

Mum leads Elle to the surgical table and she hops lightly up onto the edge, like she’s done this a thousand times.

“Sypha, pay close attention to the dark magic. There should come a moment when you feel it start to release. But don’t come on too strong. Like pulling out an arrow, slow and steady.”

Mum nods and holds her hands over her open spell book. Lady Lisa and the other mages step away. Elle is half kneeling over dad, she tenderly strokes his rough jaw and then gathers his square hand in her little ones. The runes flicker to life again.

xxx

Adrielle

 I close my eyes and center my attention on uncle Trevor. My mind and magic know instinctively what to do, and keying into him is almost as easy as breathing. Though, even that’s been harder lately.

I meet a good amount of resistance just below the surface. But whether it’s some kind of defensive trick of the dark power, or just because Trevor isn’t conscious, I can’t tell.

This part doesn’t take much energy. I make my way deeper into Trevor, like descending stairway after stairway down into his mind. There aren’t as many colors rippling behind my eyes as there would normally be, and I have to remind myself it’s only because he’s so deeply asleep. He’s not dying. Not yet, anyway.

Like striking an aquifer, Trevor’s life-force—the very essence of him— floods into me. It’s gentler than it was with the magical creatures, and sort of… thicker. More like pouring honey from one jar into another. We’re connected.

As soon as I’m through to him, Jun's ugly magic trickles in like blood through water. It feels so like he did when he stood before me in that crumbling great hall. Because all I can see are the misty pools of color behind my eyes, I can’t replace the image of that hall in my head. Or the memory of tati’s pain when the curse activated.

A patch of warmth appears physically on my back, moving in light circles between my shoulders. Focusing on that, I work to carefully sperate Trevor’s essence from anything that isn’t supposed to be here.

Sometimes, I visit auntie Violet at her and Greta’s cottage on summer evenings. I sit with her and tell her about my studies while she spins or knits. This is just like teasing apart carded fleece for spinning.

The visual of a familiar action helps me to get that much deeper into Trevor. Once I’ve got him fully wrapped up in my own essence, I bare down, projecting my power out like a forcefield around us.

“Uncle Trevor, it’s Elle. Can you hear me?”

There is a long silence, during which I feel Sypha activate her own working and begin to extricate the corruption little by little.

“Oh, hey, kid,” comes the weak response— quiet, like he’s speaking to me from a great distance. Even though I can feel him right next to me.

Trying not to cry, I say, “You’re home now, you’re safe. But you’re hurt.”

“Yeah,” he huffs a laugh, “feels like it.”

“Do you think you can follow me back to the surface? I’m going to clear the rest of this shit out as we go.”

“Right behind you.”

I sweep the last wisps of magical debris from uncle Trevor as, together, his consciousness and mine drift back to the outside world. Even just casting my mind around quickly as we go, I can tell simply removing the power won’t be the end of uncle Trevor’s troubles.

One of the first things tati ever taught me about magic is that powerful forces— especially those with cruel intent— always leave traces of themselves behind. As if I needed more proof of that.

It will be a long time before he feels well again.

I break the surface a few moments before Trevor pulls in a long, stuttering breath and slowly opens his eyes.

“Dad!” Soleil squeaks, voice thick with tears.

The whooshing of Sypha’s working stills as she powers it down.

“Trevor?” she whispers, coming around the other side of the table to run her fingers through his matted hair.

“Hello, love,” he whispers back.

Soleil’s palm is suddenly gone from my back, and he wraps his arms tight around my middle, squeezing hard. It’s a good thing I asked Sypha to help pull out the infected magic, I don’t think I could have done that on my own.

“You ok?” Sol asks, low in my ear.

“I will be.”

“Elle?” my eyes snap back open and I meet uncle Trevor’s gaze, “Thank you.”

I smile as best I can, and nod. I’m heavy with exhaustion, but I’m getting pretty used to that recently.

Sypha is pouring over him, looking for anything out of place, “You did it, Ellie,” she breathes, looking ready to breakdown.

“I’m glad I could help,” it’s harder to speak now, the wound to my neck is getting hot and sore from too much strain.

I give Trevor’s hand one more squeeze, and Soleil helps me off the table. I wobble a little as I wait for my legs to regain feeling after being all kinked up, above Trevor.

The grownups probably have a lot they want to talk about, making Trevor aware of his injuries and telling him all the recovery rules he won’t follow, that sort of thing. So, I shuffle to the door, ready to crawl into bed again.

“Wait,” Lisa stops me in the doorway with a soft word, “I don’t understand. If you didn’t need to speak to his conscious mind in order to do that, what part of him did you communicate with?”

I pause to compose myself, not ready or willing to really look at her, “His soul.”

xxx

Soleil

When he’s resting comfortably in his infirmary bed, I drop into the chair beside him, too tired to get up again. But I watch his face intently with blurry eyes, it’s still and peaceful in opiate-induced sleep.

It’s only the four of us in here right now— mum, dad, myself, and Lady Lisa.

I thought I was going to faint when I looked to the voice that spoke to me in the sitting room, only to see a long-dead woman standing there, in the flesh.

Mum is whispering somewhere near the back wall. There are curtains on free-standing rails around dad’s bed, so mum may have forgotten I’m even here.

“I’ve been searching for anything foul on you, but I can’t find anything.”

“And you won’t,” Lisa replies gently.

Mum exhales, “So, you’re really her.”

“Yes.”

“Jesus fire-dancing Christ.”

“It’s a long story, but I promise, I mean you and your family no harm.”

“Then, why have you come?”

Lisa hesitates before answering, “I live far away, but I keep an eye on things here.”

“How?”

“Different methods. Don’t worry, we don’t have spies in your city. We just like to know all is well.”

“All is very much not well. We’re under siege, at the moment.”

“Is that in any way connected to whatever has happened to my son?”

Mum sounds so sad when she finally replies, “Yes. The army outside our walls is made up primarily of ghouls and night creatures. They’re commanded by a young man named Jun. He’s come seeking revenge against Alucard for…” mum sighs deeply and sniffs, “something I don’t have the energy to explain right now.”

“Where is he? Where is Alucard?”

“Somewhere safe, more or less. He’s hiding out where no one will easily find him, until we can figure out a way to help him.”

“Help him with what?”

“Lisa, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling in this moment,” mum says gently, “But I think it might be easier if you could meet with my whole family together, then we can fill you in on every detail. Trevor should be awake in the morning, if we were successful. And our headwoman, Greta, will be back from the walls by then.”

“Very well,” Lisa concedes, “I appreciate your willingness to involve me.”

Mum laughs lightly, “I couldn’t turn away Alucard’s mother, could I?”

“May I ask you one more question?”

Mum hums agreement.

“That little girl…” she trails off like she isn’t sure how to proceed.

 I know mum must be smiling behind the curtain, though it will be tinged with sadness, “Yes,” she murmurs in her special mum-voice, “that is Adrielle, your granddaughter.”

“Granddaughter,” Lisa repeats the word, unbelieving.

“That will require an entirely separate explanation. But now you’ve seen her, you’ll agree there is no denying her parentage.”

Lisa’s smile is evident in her soft tone, “Oh, no.”

There is short silence, and I imagine the two women are sharing one of those you-can-only-understand-if-you’re-a-parent moments.

“Why don’t we find you a room of your own, I think you’ve had as many shocks today as we have,” mum offers, “Soleil and I will stay with Trevor tonight.”

xxx

Adrielle

I make it back to the family apartments, but I’m too worn out to climb the stairs. Pulling every blanket from the basket by the fireplace, I make myself a nest on the sofa and climb in.

Just as I’m getting ready to drop off to sleep, the big transmission mirror activates, and Christopher literally falls into the room. I sit still, too sleepy and confused to speak.

“Where’s dad?” his eyes are wide with panic and he’s trying to catch his breath as he scrambles to his feet.

“Infirmary. He’s ok.”

Chris slumps with relief, his face is haggard and caked with mud. For a moment, I think he’s going to flop onto the sofa, but instead he grabs my head in his hands and kisses my hair with a loud smacking noise.

“How did you get back? You were in the highlands.”

“We found a scholomance up there, a few miles east of—” he abruptly breaks off, flapping his hands like the details don’t matter, “Anyway, I traded my horse and a few knives for a trip through their mirror.”

“Carpathian scrying monks?” I mutter to myself, “I thought they were all gone. The rest of your party aren’t going to come piling into our sitting room, are they?”

“Nope, they’re riding home.”

“Chris, what happened?”

“I sent dad home with a transport spell Sol gave me.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I try to keep my voice light, and he just looks at me blankly in the low light from the fireplace. There is something in his eyes that makes it hard to hold them. His look is almost accusing. Bitter. Rattled.

His sleeves are stained with blood.

“What happened to uncle Trevor?”

“I got to go see dad,” and with that, Christopher crashes through the door, not bothering to close it again.

Rolling my eyes, I hope I remember to kick him in the shin tomorrow for making me get up again to deactivate the mirror and shut the apartment door.

I wish I hadn’t caught the dark look that came over his features when he avoided my question. I don’t believe for a moment that he’s as calm as he pretended to be.

But, it’s not like I don’t know what happened out there. Tati almost killed uncle Trevor.

xxx

I don’t sleep after Chris leaves. The sitting room is too cold and empty, and I’m too uncomfortable after helping in the infirmary to relax at all. Remembering that morning we were taken to Jun in the ruined castle, the way foulness and rage seemed to just pour out of him, has left me jittery.

Tati’s demeanor had changed so quickly from carefully neutral to rigid with fear, as soon as Jun revealed who he was. I’ve been looping that moment in my mind, fixating on the look in his eyes. But now, the reason for that fear I saw there comes back to me.

Jun's parents. The human twins tati took in a few months before I was born. Their deaths, Jun's misunderstanding— or, willful denial— of what really happened is at the heart of all of this. But what did happen?

That must be why aunt Sypha had tati’s old journal in her work basket. The grownups were hoping to find some clue in there about what happened between tati and Jun's parents. Something to explain why he killed them.

I sit up in my blanket nest, skin chilled with goosebumps. I argue with myself for nearly an hour about my next move. Reading tati’s private thoughts feels wrong, especially when he isn’t here to give permission, or explain anything. But what else can I do? How else can I help?

If any of us have a right to read the diary, I do. Whatever tati secreted away in that little book is the reason I’m here. Whatever happened to him in the months after he killed his father is why the magic made me. And suddenly, I feel I would like to finally know why.

I pad quietly up the stairs, in case anyone is lurking about. But the only other’s up this late are the cats, they’re lounging in pools of pale moonlight from the tall gallery windows. One pounces on my trailing blanket as I pass.

In my bedchamber, I set my candle on the nightstand and crawl under my bed to retrieve the journal from its hiding place, then get under the covers. The fire was not lit in here tonight, and the room is icy. My hands shake as I gently run my fingers over the worn leather— more brown than red after twenty years.

The spine crackles when I lift the cover to reveal perfect, swirling letters. Seeing this evidence of him, something he wrote with his own hand, hurts so much. And my eyes fill with tears that blur the candlelight.

I haven’t been near his room since I came home. The nearest I’ve come to being close to him again was looking through the papers in his study. That place, deep in the Carpathians, where tati is, feels a world away now.

As I start to read, the tears fall faster. The man who wrote these first entries was an Alucard I never knew. The grief and suffering are horrible to read, but not altogether unexpected. I’ve always known about that part, in a way. What troubles me is how he so readily took the blame on himself for how things ended between him and the twins.

What finally breaks my heart is how happy tati was when Jun's parents came to the castle, knowing how it will end. It sends waves of indignation through me to read how he was so caught up in teaching and spending time with them, that he all but forgot not only his troubles, but his unhealthy distractions too.

It’s clear tati hoped Sumi and Taka would be a life-line for him. I imagine I can read a kind of fragile hope in his neat script. Like he thought he’d finally found a reason to go on, his next step— bringing up a new generation of vanquishers. He even wondered if his mother would be proud of his choice to do so.

God, I hope he gets the chance to ask her.

Then, something in the unfolding story of the journal changes. Tati makes several references to questions the twins keep asking him. He writes their interactions as off-putting and a little concerning. As though he’s gotten the feeling something has changed between them.

“I believe I may be the most selfish creature alive.”

They’re beginning to push boundaries, insisting there must be something he isn’t sharing with them about the melted castle engine, or magical weapons, or other such things. But then recanting their questions when he pushes back, and assuring him they have all the time in the world together.

Somehow, reading this account of their behavior turns my stomach even more than knowing these siblings made a child together. Something is beginning to give me the impression these two planned their stay with tati for longer than they claimed.

The morning they met him, they claimed to have only been watching the castle for a day or so, and had only just discovered it was inhabited.

I don’t believe that. It’s like they knew, instantly, what to say to get tati to agree to take them in— telling him they were all alone in the world. They must have watched him for days or weeks before approaching.

It would have been clear how lonely he was. Tati was so outside himself, trying to distance himself from his greif, he probably just didn’t notice he was being stalked.

And then, it finally happens. A few of the pages are stiff and harder to turn because they had once been saturated in blood, and the paper still sticks to itself. Tati’s familiar scent rises out of the pages, faint with age.

“I can’t say it. No matter how long I sit here, I can’t make myself write the words.

I should carve them into my flesh instead. Use these blistering wounds to guide my hand.

Why wouldn’t they listen? Why wouldn’t they just fucking listen to me? Why did they make me do it?”

“It’s been a few days. The burns still haven’t healed. It must have been powerful magic to hold me like that but still— never mind, it won’t kill me, it just hurts.”

“I keep waking up screaming, expecting to find them on top of me. It’s humiliating. Every little creak of the walls makes me flinch, and there is a gnawing in my chest that won’t leave me alone.

I can still feel the restraints.”

“I can’t sleep. Again. And after I’d gotten so used to feeling rested. It seems impossible now that I could have ever been so at ease with them in the castle.

Had they planned it from the first? How could I have misread them so completely?

Perhaps I didn’t. Perhaps they just finally grew tired of me holding out on them. They accused me of hiding things from them, I knew for weeks they could tell I was dragging out their instruction to keep them here.”

“I should have admitted it then. The moment they raised their dissatisfaction with my patronage. Maybe it would have ended differently if I had just confessed how afraid I was of being alone again. Apologized for deceiving them, and promised to do better.

Maybe they would have stayed. Even when they drew their blades I knew, in my heart, I would never hold it against them. This slip meant nothing, I would never have mentioned it again, come morning— if only they would stay.”

I wipe at my eyes. Tears drip on to the pages, but the ink is set firmly after all these years, and doesn’t run.

I remember that far-away look in tati’s eyes. The way he would suddenly seem to vanish from his own body. He would be sitting right next to me, but I knew he was focused somewhere else. Is this what he was seeing? Was he reliving that night?

The way Jun framed his actions to tati and I had almost made me feel sorry for him. I thought of how I would feel if someone took tati from me, and I pitied Jun in that moment.

But not only does he not know the truth of what happened between tati and Sumi and Taka, Jun doesn’t have any idea what his parents really were.

What sort of people could do something so cruel? What could possibly have made them want to hurt someone who took them in and cared for them?

I let out a long, shuddering breath and wipe my eyes again. The last of my pity for that boy dries up, and I lose myself for a little while in fantasizing about cutting his throat.

But no, I can’t do that, even if I could find him. He might still have information that could help us save tati.

While my mind rushes along, rage and horror turning my bloodstream to a raging river, I absently flick through more entries in the old journal. It only seems to be an endless record of suffering and regret. How could one soul bear so much, and still find the strength to go on?

I come to a series of shorter entries written over a week at the beginning of August, 1477. The seven days before my creation.

Tati had been locking down the castle and preparing to put himself to sleep forever. This wouldn’t have been any ordinary vampire hibernation, he planned to spell himself to sleep permanently.

It’s strange to read about the night I was made through someone else’s eyes. I only remember shreds of moments. There was nothing, then there was tati. I sat on the cold, stone floor of the old chapel, staying close by him until he regained consciousness. The splitting of his soul took so much out of him.

I knew I had to stay with him, I knew he needed me. Now I know why.

I keep reading. The entries turn from recounting nightmares and grief, to peaceful accounts of our daily routines. Slowly, my tati’s love for me begins to fill every page. I can almost feel it like a warm blanket wrapped around me.

Blowing out my candle, I curl myself around the diary, holding tight to this little piece of tati. I don’t mean to fall asleep, but can’t seem to fight it when my eyes start to close. The cats walk over me, shoving for their usual places on my head and legs.

What do I do now? Does anyone have a plan? What’s our next step?

Sleep settles over me and I let it carry me away.

xxx

Soleil

I jerk awake to the rough cawing of birds. The sun has barely risen, and I blink hard as I take in the infirmary. Everything seems fine. No one is rushing around, or shouting instructions. Sighing, I look over at dad and instantly shoot out of my chair.

“Easy,” he croaks, smiling up at me, “take a breath.”

“I can’t believe I fell asleep,” I push my hands through my hair, “I’m sorry. I was supposed to keep an eye on you.”

“I’m here. I didn’t go anywhere.”

My heart slows back to its normal pace immediately. That’s just like dad— knowing exactly what to say.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, reaching out a hand to me, “what’s wrong?”

I rub at my eyes, only now realizing I’ve started crying. Dropping weakly back into my chair, I lower my forehead onto the back of dad’s hand, holding his fingers like I did when I was small. I know the pattern of the scars here as well as if they were on my own hands.

“I’m just glad your awake. It’s good to hear your voice.”

The images of dad when he first arrived home— bloody and broken— dissipate, and I take my first deep breaths in hours.

“Sol, is there something you want to tell me?”

I almost laugh through my tears. If he’d asked me this a few weeks ago, I might have clammed up, or denied it outright just to avoid having to say it. But now, after everything that’s happened, coming clean doesn’t frighten me anymore.

“Yes,” I squeak, and try to sit up straight.

“You’ve been wanting to tell me for a while, haven’t you?” dad squeezes my hand, but I’m not ready to look up from my lap yet.

I nod, another lump clogging my throat.

“I just didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Not possible. I’m sorry I haven’t done more to make that clear. You could never disappoint me, sunshine.”

He hasn’t called me that since I told him I wasn’t a girl. I peek up, and my stomach clenches to see tears in dad’s eyes.

“I think, maybe, I was waiting to figure out what I really wanted before I talked to you. For a long time, I figured I’d go study with the Speakers, or become an archivist.”

“And now?”

“I want to learn medicine. I want to be a physician, not a vanquisher.”

A grin pulls on my face, I’m so relieved to finally let the words out.

“What do you think?” I ask sheepishly.

Dad’s eyes go all soft, “I think that’s a fine idea.”

Before either of us can get in another word, the infirmary door is flung open and Chris charges in. Thankfully, we still have the place to ourselves.

“Did I hear dad? Is he finally awake?” Chris asks, literally sliding around the privacy curtain in socked feet. As soon as he claps eyes on him, Chris’ whole body relaxes.

He approaches to kiss dad’s head, careful not to touch him. I didn’t even ask dad how he was feeling when I woke up. He must still be in a lot of pain, because he winces when Chris leans down.

“I’m so sorry,” Chris says, voice thick, “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dad grabs his arm before he can step back from the bed, “Don’t you dare,” he commands, looking hard into Chris’ face, “you did the best you could. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

I can tell Chris wants to argue, probably to insist his best wasn’t good enough, but he holds his tongue.

“What happened out there,” I ask tentatively.

Chris and dad share a glance.

“Boys, go gather the family. We need to get everyone apprised of the situation. Things have changed.”

xxx

Adrielle

I take in every crack and crease of the journal’s leather binding, turning it gently around and around in my hands. This unassuming, little book full of the last words I may ever hear from my tati.

I’ve been sitting here for hours, trapped in that thought. The light has changed a little, so it must finally be morning. There is movement on the stairs outside my room, I recognize three pairs of footsteps— Sol, Chris, and Sypha. They’re in a hurry.

I wait a moment to hear them knock on my door, but they pass by without collecting me. They even slow down as they pass my chamber, hoping I won’t hear them. I catch the word ‘infirmary’, spoken so low I can’t tell which of them says it.

So much for uncle Trevor’s promise not to exclude me anymore.

Hissing to myself, I stomp to the window and throw open the case. The castle walls are slick with rain, but I’m pretty sure I can make it to the infirmary faster this way.

It’s more difficult than I thought to climb to the ground, my usual footholds are full of cold water that runs down my arms and soaks my sleeves. Just great.

By the time I reach the ground I’m nearly frothing with frustration. I lean into the feeling, stoking it, just so I don’t have to feel the fear roiling underneath.

The courtyard is slowly turning into a pond because the excessive rain has nowhere left to go. And the castle sits above most of the city, what must the lower districts look like by now? I give up trying to avoid the water filling my shoes almost as soon as I touch the ground.

Trudging across the yard, I kick angrily at the water, scattering the leaves that have settled on the surface. Most of them stick to my stockings, which only makes me more uncomfortable. When I reach the outer wall of the hospital building, I quickly assess the masonry and decide it looks fairly climbable.

I scale past the tall windows, only peering in for a moment. Trevor is awake, which lifts my mood a little. Sol, Greta and Violet are sitting around the bed— the wives look more than a little dumbstruck. And Sypha is stationed beside Trevor, holding his hand.

But Christopher is pacing up and down the length of the room, arms crossed tight over his chest. Watching him wear a trench in the floor, I almost don’t notice the extra figure in the room. Lisa sits slightly apart from the others, hands folded carefully on her lap.

My stomach flips. If they’ve invited her into this conversation it must be important.

Up on the roof, I quickly find the old access door and lift it as quietly as I can. It’s heavy and creaky, and the handle is coarse with rust. I slide through and drop silently onto the rafters. Holding my breath for a long moment, waiting to see if anyone has noticed me.

“And that’s about it,” says uncle Trevor, “anyone have anything else to add?”

Lisa turns a sympathetic look on Chris, who doesn’t seem to notice. His expression is dark and focused inward. I guess Trevor has just finished telling everyone what happened up in the highlands.

“I’m sorry for all your recent troubles,” she says, turning her attention back to Trevor and Sypha, “and please, believe me, I have no desire to add to your burden by being here.”

“And we are sorry that we do not have better news to share with you,” says auntie Sypha.

“So, what do we do now?” asks Violet, chewing her fingernails.

“What are our next steps?” Greta continues Violet’s thought.

Soleil looks to his mother, “What about the sketch of the spell circle?”

“It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. To me, it reads like it was pieced together from several conjuring languages.”

“Wouldn’t that mean it was less stable?”

“I wish I could say. From what I could read,” Sypha pauses to draw in a furtive breath, “I cannot imagine he has much time left.”

My heart pounds, all eyes in the room turn to Lisa.

“And when that time runs out, that curse will overpower him?” she asks, so quietly I almost don’t hear her.

“Yes,” Sypha replies, soberly.

“What if there was someone who could read the spell, someone widely versed in occult languages? If we could fully decipher the spell, do you think it might reveal a way to save my son?”

A prickling chill sweeps through the infirmary, freezing everyone down to the bone.

Trevor’s expression turns to magma, eyes blazing through his obvious exhaustion, “He’s alive?”

Lisa simply nods.

Greta swears loudly, and Sol has turned white as the bedsheets. How had I not considered this? If Lisa has been returned to the living, why not Dracula?

“He will not trouble you here, if you do not wish it. I never even meant you should know about him. But he may be the only one who can help us now.”

Trevor and Sypha have a silent exchange. It seems, for them, the answer is easy if it means saving their oldest friend.

“Alright,” says Trevor, “If you can reach him, do it quickly. He may come through the family mirror to speak with us, but that’s all. The people could never— would never— consent to Dracula being in the city.”

“I understand,” Lisa makes to rise from her seat, “I’ll try to get in touch with him right away.”

“Hold on!” Chris barks, “This is insane. What the fuck are we doing?”

Sypha looks like she’s about to speak up, but Christopher doesn’t allow it.

“I mean, let’s be serious for a second. Is all this really worth it? You said it yourself, mum, Alucard’s fuse is getting shorter every day. And when he finally goes off, we’re all going to die. I saw his face when he attacked us, dad, he isn’t in there anymore. And now we’re agreeing to let fucking Dracula back into Wallachia? For what?”

“Christopher, listen to me,” Trevor says flatly, but again, Chris will not be interrupted.

“We’re Belmonts. If Alucard was any other vampire, we would dispatch him and be done with it. He’s a danger to all of us, and we’re wasting time trying to save him— when we should be neutralizing the threat!”

Violet hides her face in her hands, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Sypha fixes anguished eyes on her son, and Sol looks like he’s about to faint.

Greta takes a small step forward, “I’m sorry to say this, I truly am, but I have to agree.”

“Fuck, Greta,” Trevor begins, but she holds up a gentle hand to stop him.

“Please, listen. You know I love Alucard, at least as much as you do. But Christopher is right. There’s an army massed outside our walls, and they’re going to make their move any day now. We need to focus our efforts here at home. We can’t keep allowing ourselves to be pulled in two directions.”

“What do you propose, then?” Trevor spits.

“We send our best— Sypha, myself, and however many soldiers we can spare. Vampires and mages, preferably. It would be kinder to end things before Alucard can be turned into a weapon.”

“Madame headwoman,” Lisa stutters, “please—”

“You know it’s what he’d want, my lady,” Greta’s voice is thick and somber, “We all know it.”

The ringing in my ears finally grows loud enough to block out all other sound. Just long enough for me to slip from the rafters, landing firmly between Greta and Chris.

She doesn’t have time to react before I lift myself from all fours to one palm and kick out as hard as I can. Greta flies off her feet, crashing into Violet and pulling them both to the floor.

Then, I spring at Chris. His back connects hard with the ground, but he brings his arm up in time to stop me from clawing his eyes out. His face, that I’ve seen every day since we were new to this world, is only a blur now. I barely recognize him anymore, or myself.

I’m biting, slashing, screeching— rage finally boiling over.

“How could you!” I don’t know if I’m speaking out loud, or only screaming the words in my head.

“Elle!” several voices call to me, but they’re muffled by the pounding in my head.

“Fuck you!” this time I definitely hear my voice.

Chris gets a knee under me and tries to lever me off him, but I only lean in harder. I’m screaming other curses, accusations, hateful words. But the more anger I unleash, the more rises to the surface.

Chris attempts to shove my face back, he’s shouting something at me, but I just grab hold of his arm and bite into it so hard my jaw burns with the force. I don’t care what he has to say now. I hope Greta is watching, because I’m coming for her next.

Hands pull at me, prying me off Christopher and dragging me kicking and snarling from the room. Something cold binds my feet together, it stings through my stockings.

“Ellie, please,” Sypha speaks close to my ear in her best ‘mother voice’, “stop struggling, please.”

My voice doesn’t sound right to me anymore, more of a rasping bark than words, “Let me go, let me go! Maybe I’ll kill you and Trevor, and we’ll see how that bastard of yours likes being an orphan! Since he wants to make me into one!”

I try to kick back toward the infirmary door, but my ankles are still bound by rings of ice.

“Adrielle,” it takes a moment to recognize Lisa’s voice. But once it penetrates the roaring in my ears, I can’t tear my focus from her. No matter how hard I try.

“What?” I spit, my words barely a croak, “Are you going to let them kill your son? You’ve been alive all this time, and you never bothered to come back to him. You don’t care! None of you do!”

“All this time?” Sypha mutters, still trying to restrain my arms.

“I can smell the Corridor on you,” I hiss, “I’ll never forget that stink.”

“The Infinite Corridor? That was twenty years ago. Have you really been back that long, Lisa?”

She looks a little confused, and embarrassed, then carefully lifts my chin to look into my eyes. But once she does, she seems to completely forget what she was going to say.

“God,” she breathes, “you look just like your father.”

I growl to cover the pain that flashes in my chest, jerking my head away. She takes my meaning, and does not try to touch me again.

“Yes, I’ve been home among the living for all these twenty years. And you’re wrong, little one—”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It isn’t that I don’t care. I love Adri— Alucard very much. I always have.”

“So, why weren’t you here?”

Sypha finally lets me go, and the ice shackles crack apart. The fight has drained out of me, leaving me limp and sore.

“I thought it would be easier, we both did. From a distance, we’ve watched your father foster something beautiful. We heard tell of everything he, and all your family, have built here— atop the ashes. I always meant to tell him I was alive out there,” she turns inward the longer she speaks, until she trails off completely.

Sypha wraps gentle arms around my shoulders and pulls me back to lean on her chest, “We’re not giving up. It’s two against six. Greta and Christopher are a little overwhelmed at the moment, they’ll come around.”

“Mum’s right,” I jump a little at Sol’s voice, he slips through the infirmary door. Kneeling down, he joins our little huddle on the carpet, “Chris feels bad for not being able to protect dad, that’s all. When he settles down, he’ll see we’re not there yet.”

I hate how reasonable he’s being. I want to go back to being angry. Because, deep down, I’m so afraid Christopher and Greta are right.

“Lady Lisa, what do you need to contact… um… your husband.”

“Let me think,” she rubs her palms on her skirt, “there used to be a fragmented transmission mirror in the castle. It was the oldest one that still worked. It’ll have a direct connect to Vlad.”

“Was it that big one in the chest with all those symbols?”

“It used to be in the west library tower,” Sypha adds.

“That’s it,” Lisa says.

“I think it’s in the Hold now,” Sol bites his lip while he thinks, “Yes, I remember. It’s in the restricted section because it belonged to Dracula.”

“Alright, take Elle and go collect it,” Sypha instructs, handing him her archive key, “Give this and my name to whoever is on duty, say you’re on an errand for me.”

“Come on, tiny, we’ve got our orders,” Soleil takes my wrist and hauls me to my feet. I’m being led down the hall and out the courtyard doors before I can object.

xxx

Chapter Text

xxx

Adrielle

Soleil is in such a hurry to get me away from the infirmary, and Christopher, he drags me out into the rain without a cloak. The Hold isn’t far from the castle, it’s on the same grounds, but we’re drenched by the time we get there. I’m still worn out and shaky, and now my feet hurt too.

“Does Chris hate me now?”

“Do you want him to?”

We pause in the foyer of the old Belmont manor, now the archive offices, and Sol dries my face with his sleeve.

“Maybe.”

“In that case, I’m sorry to say, he didn’t seem that upset.”

“Really?”

Sol purses his lips, hiding a smirk, “Well, there was a good bit of huffing and puffing. But I think you whacking his head off the floor probably knocked sense back into him. You were really trying to hurt him, weren’t you?”

We step onto the lift and Sol releases the ropes that lower us slowly deep underground.

“Maybe.”

“I won’t try to defend what he and Greta said, it was horrible.”

“It was.”

He brushes my hair back from my eyes and tilts my face to the light, “Are you feeling ok?”

“Just tired. I’m always tired now.”

Down in the Hold, students, vanquishers, scholars, and various other sorts are shuffling around with their arms full of books. Most of the work stations are occupied, and there is a low hum of conversation in the air.

“I didn’t think there would be so many people down here. Not with everything going on.”

“Most of them will be cataloguing and copying, I expect.”

Just in case it all goes wrong, and this archive is destroyed or raided.

The restricted section of the Hold is hidden a level beneath the main library. I think it used to be a weapons storehouse, but now it hides all of the most dangerous artifacts and magic that’s been found in this collection, or brought to Belmont by visitors. The entrance is a little alcove in the back wall, with only a desk and a bench.

“Good morning, Soleil,” a young man about Chris’ age greets him with a sunny smile. He’s half bent over a book on the table, quill in hand.

Sol seems to forget how to speak for a moment, “Oh, Mica, hello.”

Wasn’t this the mage that went with Trevor’s party to the highlands?

“When did you get back?” Sol stammers.

What’s wrong with them? They’re just staring at each other. Do they not get along?

“Just this morning, around dawn. I didn’t feel like going home after… everything, so I came in for a shift. They needed someone to man the door. How’s your dad?”

“Awake and talking. Mica is an apprentice scribe,” Sol says over his shoulder to me, “that’s how we met.”

“Hello,” I croak. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m too sleepy and frayed for pleasantries.

“Good morning, my lady. So, is there something I can help you with?”

“We’re on an errand for my mother. She asked us to bring her that old transmission mirror, you know, the piecemeal one in the chest.”

Mica hums to himself, “Sure, I think so. What does she need that for?”

“She didn’t say, and I thought it was best not to ask.”

“Fair, but you’ll have to wait for the archivist to come down, I don’t have clearance to go below without a superior.”

“That’s alright, we do.”

Soleil produces the archive key and steps awkwardly past Mica to unlock the door which leads onto the spiral stairs. Mica looks vaguely impressed.

“Good luck, it’s a maze down there.”

We pick our way down the splintery stairs by the light of a small fire Sol holds on his fingertips.

“Jesus, and I thought the Hold was deep,” he grumbles, “How far down does this go? I feel like we’ve been walking for five minutes.”

“Three and a half.”

Sol snorts, “it’s going to be really fun dragging that chest all the way back up, huh?”

I’m about to respond when Sol gasps. My hands fly out to grab the back of his cowl before he can fall.

“Thanks, but it’s just a tall final step. We made it.”

“I see. So, I’m only here to help you carry things back to the castle?”

“And to prevent more bloodshed in the surgery.”

Sol makes an alchemical sign with his hands, and the little flame fractures and soars like fireflies to lanterns along the walls.

“Oh, hell…” we groan.

Before us is a long room, too dark to see the far end. We’re staring down one of many narrow stacks that fan out on either side of us, seemingly forever.

“Do we know where we’re going?” I ask.

“I don’t see a catalogue,” he swivels his head back and forth, “And cases aren’t even numbered.”

There are lists of the contents of each stack nailed to the ends. Standing on my toes to read the closest one, they don’t appear to be alphabetized, or organized in any way that I can make out.

“I’ll start a that end, you start down there. Meet in the middle.”

He nods, “Shout if you find it.”

I lift a lantern from its bracket, and bring it with me down to the far, right side of the room. Each footstep echoes ominously, there isn’t anything in here but the stacks and smell of musty wood. I keep one ear on Soleil as I make my way down the furthest aisle.

It takes exploring three entire cases, climbing the racks to see what’s higher up, to realize that this place actually is organized. Everything is arranged by date, going from the oldest entries to the newest. I’m at the older end, the earliest year on the crates and volumes is 1066.

I’m about to call out to Sol to come down to my side, assuming the mirror is probably closer to this end, when something catches my eye. A narrow box, the short end that faces out is only about as wide as my hand. The little card stuck under the brass tabs is warped and smudged.

But holding my lantern up closer confirms what I thought I saw at a glance. The card reads ‘subjugation circlet’. My hands shake as I pull the box from the shelf, it’s nearly as long as the rack is deep. Gingerly, I set it on the dusty floor, and kneel down to slide the lid from its tracks. Inside is a neatly arranged row a steel bands like heavy bracelets— laid one over the other, and dull with age.

This is it. These are what tati described in his journal. This is what Jun's parents used to hurt tati.

But there’re so many here. Did Sumi and Taka bring all of these with them to Wallachia?

I can feel something on the underside of the lid. Turning it over, I find a slip of decaying parchment glued to the wood, the writing is barely legible.

Straining my eyes, I can just make out a few of the words.

“Design… Gandolfi… wielded… Leon Belmont, 1095…”

I let the lid drop to the floor. These things— these torture devices— belong to the Belmonts. The first Belmont to come to Wallachia, Leon, even used them. Why would they need something like this? Surely, the mighty Belmonts were capable of killing vampires without cheap tricks.

Without thinking, I dip my fingers into the box. The second my skin touches the cold steel, the circlets burst open, bands of blade-sharp steel explode from the little crate, clattering around me and sizzling with magic. I scream and flash away. In my rush to get out of range of the spring-trap, I crash hard into the wall, cracking the brittle plaster.

Soleil calls to me, but it takes a moment for my words to make it out of my mouth.

“I’m fine,” I manage.

He sprints to me, a stake of ice hovering under his palm, “What happened?”

“Nothing. I set off a trap, that’s all.”

“What trap?” Sol looks down between the stacks, and creeps up to the bramble of restraints.

“Don’t worry,” I mutter darkly, “you don’t have anything to fear from those.”

“Why is that?”

“You’re not a vampire.”

Sol prods one of the bands with his shoe, the light of his lantern glints off the cutting edge of the steel, “Oh, I’ve heard about these.”

“Where?” I ask sharply.

“Vanquisher training, we had a lesson on old-world hunting techniques. Dad told us these were used to capture vampires, so hunters could get information from them. Where they made their nests, how many they were, where they might be keeping human captives. Or, you know…” he says sadly, “just for the fun of it. Hunters used to play a very different game, that’s what dad told us.”

“Not just any hunters, Sol— Belmonts. Your own family made these,” I flap my hand at the nest of cords still sparking menacingly, “for the sick pleasure of hurting others. Because they thought the world belonged to them. That they were free to do or take whatever they liked, because they had it rough.”

I shut my eyes tight and drag my fingers through my hair.

“What are you talking about?” he asks softly, “Elle, it was a long time ago, we don’t use things like this anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter. Forget it. Let’s just find that stupid mirror, I want to get out of here.”

I wander up and down the rows of shelves, barely seeing their contents. Something ugly and desolate swirls in my stomach. Jun's parents must have found the circlets here in the Hold, wherever they were kept before our first archivists moved the forbidden knowledge down to this vault.

Tati allowed them access to the Hold, because he believed they earnestly wanted to free their people from evil vampires. And they abused his trust.

And the Belmonts…

We hold up the old family as some kind of paragon of goodness and valor. Their legacy is supposed to be the foundation of our lives here. But they were no better than other humans. Cruel, selfish, and far too eager to inflict their own pain on others.

I begin to replay the conversation I overheard in the infirmary. Everyone speaks about the curse as if there’s no question it will take hold of tati, and turn him into a weapon for Jun. As if they have no doubt he’ll survive its influence long enough. They still believe tati is more than he is, that he can’t be killed by anything as base as human magic.

I don’t think I believe that anymore. Not after watching the spell bring him to his knees in that ruined castle. Not after looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but blind bloodlust. Tati can be conquered. Maybe he already has been.

What if Christopher was right?

I miss that feeling of complete certainty. I miss the days when I believed absolutely that my tati would always be here for me, when he was still that fierce fairytale prince, and nothing could touch us in this little world he built for us. But I don’t think I believe in anything anymore.

“Elle, I found it. Come and see!”

xxx

The sitting room is dead quiet, no one dares to move. Lisa unlatches the chest, and the pieces of the mirror lift the lid as they rise into the air. It’s just a bigger version of the mirrors we use every day, except this one leaks a foul energy. It isn’t quite dark magic, but it’s close enough to make my skin crawl.

Lisa looks about her, patting her belt and pockets, “I need something to write with, something sharp to carve the runes.”

I pull my dagger and pass it to her without making eye contact. I’m still embarrassed about my outburst earlier, but I’m not ready to apologize.

Looking around at the others, I suddenly notice they’re all armed— even Soleil has a blade on his hip. Auntie violet couldn’t bear to be here, she was too afraid. And uncle Trevor is still laid up in the infirmary, probably going mad with anxiety as we stand here.

Greta looks subtly murderous where she stands by the fireplace. If our guest tries anything, I’m sure she’ll be the first to take a swing at him.

Lisa holds my knife the way one might hold a scalpel, and studiously carves symbols into the largest mirror pieces. It’s clear she isn’t fluent in magical runes, and it takes her some time to work out exactly which one goes on which piece.

As soon as the last rune is complete, the mirror activates and Christopher steps in front of me, guiding me to stand further behind him. We haven’t talked since I bit him, but he still looks ready to stand between me and the world— should it come to that.

The mirror pieces don’t come together fully, and no image other than Lisa’s reflection appears in the glass. But after a long pause, a voice comes through.

“Lisa,” it says, “what news?”

“I’m with his family now, they have an offer for you.”

“How may I be of assistance?”

He doesn’t sound at all like how I imagined. The few times I caught shreds of his voice in tati’s memories, Dracula was roaring with fury.

But this voice is almost reedy, subdued and measured. But there’s no mistaking the rumble beneath his patient words.

“Dracula,” Sypha speaks up, stepping closer to the mirror, “we have a copy of the spell circle used in a corruption curse, that Alucard now carries. We’re hoping you can decipher it.”

“Is that all, madam Speaker?”

Sypha visibly shivers, “No, we would like for you to come to us here, in the castle,” she pauses for a moment to gather herself, “We’re running out of time to save Alucard, we need your help.”

“This mirror is no longer reliable for travel. I have another here, but I’ll have to cut the runes first.”

“In a few minutes, we’ll open the private pathway to our family quarters.”

“Very well, I’ll wait for the way to open.”

With that, the connection closes and the mirror packs itself away.

“Well,” Chris sniffs, “generous of him to wait to be invited, at least.”

Lisa says nothing, though the comment was tossed in her direction. She just silently passes my knife back to me and goes to join Greta, who has collapsed onto the sofa.

“Let me know when I need to be on my guard again,” Greta mumbles, and throws an arm over her eyes.

Chris plants me in the soft chair beside the sofa and flops onto the rug, leaving Sypha and Sol to prepare the big mirror.

“Now I think of it, how come you could just walk right through, but they have to do something to the mirror to let him in?” Greta asks Lisa.

She shrugs, “I couldn’t say. I’ve never known all that much about magic. Honestly, it never even occurred to me that I might not be able to get through. In my day, there were no private transmission mirrors.”

I snort a laugh before I can stop myself.

“Your day, huh?” Chris chuckles.

Lisa gives him a playful smirk, “I’m older than I look.”

Our talking draws the cats down from my room. They wind through our legs and chirp for attention. Lisa lifts the pudgy brindle onto her lap. He instantly melts into her scratches, purring so loud its almost obscene.

“How many have you got now, Elle?” Greta asks, “A dozen, maybe two?”

“Just four, in the house,” my voice is wrecked from shouting at Chris and my scars sting when I speak, “And anyway, you’re one to talk.”

“Couldn’t bear the empty nest,” Chris teases, voice high with affected sympathy. Greta hits him in the face with one of the embroidered pillows.

“I was the same way when your father left home,” Lisa says to me, not looking up from the adoring cat in her arms.

“Really?” I rasp.

“Oh, yes. I didn’t exactly go around collecting stray cats, but I got so lost in my work I wouldn’t leave my home for days.”

“Wait,” Greta sits up and gestures toward the mirror, “you and… him weren’t living here, in the castle?”

“We spent a lot of time apart. When he was at home, we stayed here. But when he traveled, I lived in my home village to work.”

“Was Alucard traveling with his father?” Greta asks, pulling one knee up.

“Some of the time. Mostly, I think he just needed to get out on his own. Hungary, Bulgaria, he even went as far as Venice and Rome.”

I lean in, “Really?”

She hums confirmation, “And Constantinople, too.”

“Really?” the word gets longer every time I say it.

“Can’t you think of anything else to say?” Chris nudges my knee with the toe of his boot.

“He never told me that.”

I feel a little guilty tati could no longer come and go as he pleased once I came along. It must have been so dull to be stuck in one place after seeing so much of the world.

“Here we go,” Sypha warns, and we’re all instantly on edge again.

The huge mirror activates, and wet, salty wind swirls through the room, underpinned by that same stormy magic.

The image in the glass takes longer than usual to focus. The frame rattles uneasily, struggling against what has to be a significant force on the other side. But soon, the spell sighs and settles to allow access to our home.

I scramble over the back of the chair and peek out. He’s even bigger than I thought. So towering that he has to stoop down just to get through the floor-length mirror.

The only portrait I’ve seen did not do him justice, at all. The man captured in the sketch was just that, a man, standing beside his wife and little son. This man who is raising himself to his full height before us is nothing like an ordinary man, at all.

His crimson eyes are sunken, and his face is eerily gaunt. But it’s his aura that sends a chill down my back. It’s dark, unnaturally dark, but clearly tightly contained— as if he’s trying not to let us feel the depth of the chaos snarling inside him.

Dracula nods to Lisa, who offers him a polite smile.

“Should I say ‘welcome home?’” Sypha asks lightly.

Dracula returns her civility, “Madame Speaker.”

“Sypha Belnadés.”

“Lady Belnadés, thank you for your invitation. And for allowing me to assist your family.”

Chris and I share a disbelieving look as I creep out from my hiding place. Sol sidles past Sypha to join his brother and I. His passing by draws Dracula’s attention to us, and his gaze instantly falls on me. The change in him is slight, but there’s no mistaking the wonder on his face.

Strangely, a kind of sadness creeps up on me at the thought that neither of tati’s parents knew about me. Even though Lisa said they’ve been keeping up with events in Belmont, somehow.

“Vlad, this is Christopher and Soleil Belmont, Alucard’s godsons. And this is his daughter, Adrielle.”

Dracula dips into a formal bow, “Your servant, miss.”

I have to swallow hard to get the words out of my swollen throat, “Can you really help us?”

“I’ll do everything I can.”

Sypha motions us to be seated, “Then, we’d better get started.”

xxx

Trevor

This is insane. This is actually, completely, mind-fuckingly insane.

My family is upstairs, with Dracula, and I’m stuck in this goddamn cot, with only a bit of thread and a lot of magic holding my guts in.

What are they planning? It better not be anything stupid.

As much as I hate to admit it, that craggy, old bastard might just be our last hope. Without him, we don’t stand a fucking chance of saving Alucard.

Every time I start to drift off I see the red flash of Alucard’s eyes in that dark, muddy yard. I hear the rage in his screeching cries as he chased Chris and I through the forest.

If we’re too late, and Alucard is already lost, his dad might be the only one who can get close enough to end his suffering. Before he can hurt anyone else.

xxx

Christopher

Elle's cats are grouped around her, glaring at Dracula. They like him being here even less than I do. She’s sitting on the rug with them, legs crossed and staring down at her hands. She’s a million miles away, just worrying that little star pendant between her fingers.

“Are you sure this is the entire spell circle?” Dracula asks.

I don’t realize for a beat that he’s speaking to me, “Yeah, that’s everything.”

He rotates my sketch to see it from every angle, and deflates a bit.

“Can you read it?” his wife asks, wringing her hands so hard her fingers turn purple.

“Yes, but,” he hesitates, still turning the page around slowly.

“What is it?” mum asks when he doesn’t continue right away.

“There are so many threads of disparate magic in this working, unraveling it would be like trying to organize spider webs.”

“Is there anything we can do?” asks Sol, leaning in from his chair at the other side of our circle.

Dracula pauses to consider his answer, “If I can get close enough to Alucard, I may be able to place a seal on him. That might help him to hold back the curse while you all work on capturing the one who cast it.”

“Is that even worth the trouble?” Greta sniffs, “If I ever get anywhere near that kid, I’m ending him on sight.”

“We can’t!” Elle protests, “Jun probably knows more about the curse than us. Even if he didn’t build it, he had to figure out how it worked.”

“And we know he tested it on others,” I add.

“He may know something that could help us break it,” Elle blinks rapidly, bewildered, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

I’d bet she did think of it. But she’s been as overwhelmed as the rest of us, maybe more so, she probably just forgot. Elle’s clever, way cleverer than a normal kid, I’m sure she’s been over every detail of this crap a thousand times already.

I keep one ear on mum and the others while they discuss the plan, but mostly my focus is on Ellie. She’s not looking well. Her eyes are dull and glassy, and she’s thinner than she used to be. She’s been withering away right in front of me, and I haven’t even noticed.

Still, she’s got a hell of a bite. I flex my wrist to feel the sting in my forearm.

“How soon can you leave?” Greta asks.

“Immediately, if you can provide me with simple provisions.”

“Sypha, may I build a medical pack from the supplies in the surgery? There’s no telling what may be needed.”

“Of course. Sol, please help Lisa find what she needs.”

They head for the door right away, both sparing a glance down to Elle on the rug. Sol pauses briefly to pat her hair as he passes, but she doesn’t notice.

“How do you plan to get to the highlands?” I ask, “It’s more than a week’s ride from here.”

“I can travel much faster than a horse, if I need to. I’ll bring that old mirror with me. The enchantment on it is so feeble, I doubt anyone on the outside will be able to access the connection. So, there will be no chance of your enemy learning of our plans.”

“I’ll gather what I can from the kitchens,” I offer, “There’s a storm coming in— again. You’d better head out within the hour.”

As if the sky had been listening in on us, a crash of thunder makes the windows quiver. As I stand to leave, I catch Greta lifting Elle off the carpet and settling her on her hip.

“You need rest,” she whispers.

Elle’s head drops listlessly onto Greta’s shoulder, and the cats follow them upstairs to the bedchambers.

xxx

Adrielle

I told auntie Greta I would try to sleep for a while, but my mind won’t stop churning.

They want to capture Jun, they just don’t want to say it in front of me. They don’t want to give me any ideas. But how will they find him? I don’t think even our representatives at the city walls have met with him yet. He may not even be in this valley.

It’s too stuffy in my room. Greta, kind soul that she is, stacked half a dozen logs in the little fireplace, and I’m starting to sweat. I slide awkwardly out of bed, head spinning, and cross to the window. After several attempts with shaking fingers, the latch finally clicks and cool air brushes my flushed cheeks.

I lift myself to sit on the sill, drawing my knees up. Far in the distance, smoke from the ghoul encampment rises in dark streams. They’ve probably felled half the forest for kindling by now.

I wish there was more I could do to help everyone. Maybe Jun would agree to meet if I offered myself as a representative. Maybe he’d speak with Lisa. Or even Dracula.

Although, being offered a meeting with tati’s parents would probably only make Jun angry. Given he’s only in Wallachia to avenge his own family. I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for him. All I feel now is anger and hatred. And exhaustion.

Every day I find new ways this nightmare has changed me.

The courtyard door opens below and I lean over to see who’s come out. Lisa and Dracula have their heads together, as much as possible with their difference in height, talking furtively. It’s the closest I’ve seen her get to him, she didn’t even sit beside him on the sofas.

Secured by straps, Dracula is carrying a pack and the mirror chest over one shoulder. The chest is at least large enough to hold me, maybe even Sol, but on Dracula it looks no bigger than a coin purse.

“What kind of state do you expect he’ll be in?” she asks.

He looks pained as he considers how to answer, “If I’m honest, I’m terrified I’ll arrive to find him already dead.”

The whole world tilts sickeningly. I grab the sill hard enough to make my knuckles crack, but I still feel like I might fall.

“Don’t say that. Do you really think it’s so unlikely he’s survived this long?”

How can she speak so calmly?

“Unlikely, but not impossible. Let’s hold onto that.”

He kisses her hand, more respectful than affectionate, and starts for the gates.

An irrationally hopeful idea comes to me, and I take my pendant from my shirt. Holding it tight in my fists, I focus all of my energy and push what little power I can spare into the pendant. It heats up, glowing icy blue and lilac between my fingers, until the stone can’t hold any more of my essence.

I swing myself carelessly from the window, half sliding down the wall and shredding dead ivy vines in my rush.

“Wait!”

Dracula stops to face me, and I freeze with several meters still between us. Everything in me warns not to get anywhere near him, but I have to be brave.

“Please, give this to him,” I pull the long chain from around my neck and hold it out as far as I can as I creep forward.

He opens his palm, but seems to sense my apprehension and stays otherwise totally still.

“Please, tell him I know he didn’t mean to hurt me. I know it wasn’t his fault.”

“I will,” Dracula tucks my necklace into his coat pocket.

There’s more I want to say. I try to think of some other message for tati, something that could communicate just how much I miss him. Something to bring him home. But I only start crying and turn away to hide my embarrassment.

He leaves, and I’m left in the grey courtyard with Lisa.

She draws nearer and kneels down, holding her arms open for me. In an instant, all my anger is drowned by crushing sadness and I collapse into my grandmother’s arms.

She speaks softly to me, but I can’t hear her words. I sob so hard my head pounds and my whole body shakes like I’m going to split open. She picks me up and brings me inside, out of the cold. We sit on the vestibule floor and Lisa rocks me in her lap until I finally cry myself to sleep.

xxx

Jun

They’re getting restless. Every day, my generals whine at me to give the order. Perhaps, I’ve waited long enough. Alucard will come to me— very soon, I’m sure— but I don’t actually need him in order to take the city. Only to reduce it to rubble. And I’m tired of waiting.

Alright, then. We begin.

xxx

Alucard

I’m too exhausted to scream anymore. Everything in me is focused solely on regaining control.

It grabbed hold while I slept, and I came back to myself to find I was nearly above ground. It took all my barely replenished strength to pull myself back from the open air.

My legs will no longer hold my weight. Without the curse’s power, I’m hardly able to move on my own now. There is only the pain, another lashing for my disobedience.

It won’t be long now.

My knees will bruise again from hitting the stone floor. I’m so cold. The darkness bites into me, finally ripping me open right down to my core— my soul.

I cannot fight it back again. It hurts. I have nothing left.

Something moves in the pool of faint moonlight from the open mouth of the cellar. Through the agony, a tall shape drifts into view.

How strange that he should be the last thing my broken mind conjures before I’m torn apart. Just one of many ghosts assembled to meet me in a few moments.

But, god, what solace it would be if only he were really with me now.

“Father, help me.”

xxx

Dracula

I suppose nothing could have prepared me to see my son like this. From the moment I learned what had befallen him, I told myself to brace for the worst. When I left the castle, I hoped I would find here a creature frothing with rage and the need to kill. Something with life and fight in it, that I would need to temper. But what I find instead rends my heart.

Driving rain follows me down into the old cellar, where I find him on the cold ground, curled around himself. He’s barely able to breathe, fighting against whatever dark force I can smell on the air.

He’s half out of his mind with what must be immense pain. But still, he pleads for help through clenched teeth. Kneeling beside Alucard, I use a claw to slice open his shirt and expose his thin back, his skin is pulled taught across protruding shoulder blades. Pricking my finger on my fang, I draw a sealing spell across them. He’s shivering so violently it’s difficult to write legibly.

Placing the flat of my palm in the circle, it activates and the blood begins to seep beneath his skin. Alucard cries out, voice shattering as the force of my magic sears into him. In only a few endless moments, it’s finished— and he falls, mercifully, into unconsciousness.

With luck, he’ll at least be able to rest for a few hours while I examine him. This curse is strong, I can sense that already, but it won’t be able to make its way past my seal any time soon. It needs to recover itself, too.

Finally taking in the space, I’m relieved to see most of it is intact and defensible— one way in, one way out. There is a large hearth and what looks like a makeshift bed in what used to be a kitchen. I carry Alucard cradled in my arms to lay him carefully on the pile of mats.

He’s hot to the touch, burning with fever. His body must be under unimaginable strain. How has he survived so long in this condition? He looks like he hasn’t fed for weeks.

I flash back above ground to gather an armful of branches, and return in an instant. I’ll gather more, and whatever else I need, once I get him warm.

xxx

Lisa

The connection from Vlad’s old mirror to my little one is hazy, at best, like I’m looking through dense fog. But after more than a day of waiting, it’s so good to finally have news of our son.

“How is he? Please, tell me he’s alive.”

“He is, but barely. The dark power in him has been consuming his lifeforce. I’ve never seen a soul wounded like this, there’s almost nothing left. Lisa, he doesn’t have long.”

My chest is tight with dread, “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t want to say it when we spoke at the castle, not in front of the girl. But I suspected the moment I saw that sketch of the curse array— and, sadly, I was correct. Breaking it would require more force than he can withstand. At this stage, Alucard is too weak. Even attempting to unbind him would only cause him undo suffering.”

I’m glad I’m alone in my bedroom, so no one but my husband hears the horrible sound that escapes me. I hide my face in my hands to compose myself, but it does little good.

“Bring him home, at least. Let his family say goodbye.”

“I can’t. There is no way to know what will happen when he goes. The dark power could erupt, only putting his loved ones at risk. Including you, dearest. He won’t want that.”

“How long?”

“A few days, at most. If I had the means of stopping the curse’s advance altogether, I may be able to prolong his life for a short time. But that would only be a very temporary repair.”

I let out my breath, slowly, so I don’t swoon. Such desolation in only a few words.

“I’ll stay with him, to keep him comfortable, as best I can. And to dispatch anything dark that may try to escape. I’m so sorry. So very, very sorry, my love.”

xxx

Christopher

Sol is crying and hugging me around the waist like he used to. I hold him tight and let him get it out. No one else is handling the news any better.

By the sitting room hearth, Greta is supporting Violet so she won’t collapse into the fire, and mum and dad are pale with shock. We might have to rush him back to the infirmary.

“Someone has to tell her,” I croak, breaking the silence.

Lisa flinches at the idea, and Greta mutters disbelievingly to herself— unable to fathom how we’re supposed to tell Ellie her father only has a few days to live.

“I will,” mum says, wiping her eyes and carefully arranging her expression.

Somehow, I thought it might not happen until later. Give us a little more time to grasp everything Lisa just told us. But mum heads straight for the stairs, and we’re all left to wait in deafening quiet until the wailing begins.

“That poor baby,” aunt Violet moans.

I look at my dad, reclined on the sofa— ashen and crying— and wonder if I would have wailed like this if he hadn’t survived.

The blasting of thunder makes Sol and I jump, and he goes to the window.

“Is it raining again?” I ask stupidly.

“That wasn’t thunder,” Sol’s words are tinged with horror.

I join him at the window.

“Oh, fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” dad asks, struggling to get up.

Sol looks frantically between me and dad, “They’ve breached the walls.”

xxx

Alucard

I’m not sure where I am when I first wake. The shifting light makes my eyes throb, and the air is heavy with the smell of smoke from wet wood.

My limbs are heavy, as though I’ve been asleep for a long time, and there is lingering numbness in my fingers. But, for the first time, there is no gnawing inside me. I could almost believe I’m alone in my own body. That seems too good to be true.

With effort, I manage to sit up. Or, at least, to get myself propped up on my hand. My head swims. For a moment, I think I may be sick. But it passes quickly, and I try to get my bearings. My body aches horrendously, yet, I feel I could stand.

I long to be in the open air again. And, if the curse has quieted for a now, perhaps I could venture outside to take my first breath of fresh air in weeks.

Getting off the floor is a clumsy affair. My legs aren’t used to holding me up, and there is still a pulling under my ribs that pangs with every movement. When I’m finally upright, or at least braced upright against the wall, I still have to wait a full minute for the pounding in my ears to subside.

I pull on my cloak and limp to the stairs. I nearly give up before I’ve climbed halfway out of the cellar. My lungs burn with every step, but I want to taste the night air so badly that I push through the pain. I’m used to that by now.

Some of the tension leaves me once I’m free of the basement walls. God, I forgot how sweet the rain makes the scent of pine and cedar. The storm will return soon, so I begin to slowly make my way out of the old yard and down the forest path to the stream. No matter how cold it is out here, I’m determined to wash and have a drink.

It’s further to the water than I remember. A low, stone wall hems in one side of the path, and I’ve been following it for several minutes but I can’t hear the stream yet. How long exactly has it been since I was last out here?

The memory of Trevor and Christopher makes my hands feel slick, as if still covered in blood. A sharp jolt courses through my abdomen, and I stumble to the crumbling wall.

Swearing under my breath, I press a hand to the site of the pain— grateful it’s localized, for once, no matter how bad it is.

The thing that’s been following me since I left the yard stops when I do, quiet as a shadow, undetectable but for its scent. I hadn’t let myself believe those strange dreams of my father had been anything other than fevered imaginings. But, damn it, I’m too tired to indulge in denial.

“Why are you here?”

“To make sure you’re alright.”

“No,” my breath catches on another shock of pain, “why are you here? Why now, why come to me now?”

“Your family sent me to find you.”

“My family,” I don’t know why, but I all but spit the words.

“They’re worried for you.”

“Please, don’t mock me.”

I can feel myself already growing weaker with the effort of making it out this far. My endurance, it seems, has worn very thin during this long isolation— along with my patience.

“I’m not mocking you.”

“I find it hard to believe they would want anything to do with you. Or me, for that matter.”

“They were willing to let it be, for now, since they believed I could help you. Why wouldn’t they?”

Even in this lowly state, I can’t bring myself to admit what I’ve done— to Trevor, to Ellie. Or about the bloodlust I’ve lived with every day out here.

But, if it’s true, do I dare hope they were spared?

“Tell me, when you say my family sent you…”

“Yes, they told me a little of what happened— to your daughter, and your Belmont friend. But, I can tell you honestly, they are both alive and well.”

I lean a little further onto the wall to ensure I won’t lose my balance, and pull in a few deep gasps. The sheer relief is dizzying, but it’s the sweetest thing I’ve felt for so, so long.

Yet, on the heels of that comfort comes the shame that’s kept me company all these many weeks.

“Thank god,” I sigh, “But it doesn’t change the basic facts.”

“How so?” he takes a surreptitious step towards me.

“I heard what you said. I thought I was dreaming, but I heard you. I will never go home.”

“I’m sorry I did not come sooner,” his words are heavy with regret, “Perhaps, if I had—”

“No,” I speak quickly to cut him off, and my chest aches in protest, “No, it’s better this way. Thank you for bringing me news of them, but even if I were free to return to Belmont tomorrow, I would not go.”

“Why? You must miss them, especially your little girl.”

I’m grateful he does not call her by her name, I don’t think I could bear to hear it just now.

“More than I can say,” a desolate smile curls my mouth, “In truth, I’m glad you’re here, that you live. You might be the only one who can save my daughter. If she really is still alive, she’s gone weeks without proper feeding, is that right?”

“Yes, your Speaker friend explained all she’s done to help care for her.”

“They must know half-measures won’t work forever. But, you. You are possessed of knowledge the rest of the world has lost, you know more about alchemy and magic than anyone currently living. Father,” I finally look at him, “if you ever loved me, swear to me you’ll save her. Save my daughter. Give me that peace before I die.”

He draws closer, bottomless sorrow plain in his eyes, “I swear I will do everything I can for her, I will not rest until I find a way to sustain her without your blood. But, please, allow me to give you this assurance as well— she forgives you.”

I shake my head without intending to. The thought is so absurd, my mind rejects it outright.

“No.”

“I tell you the truth. Your little one loves you with all her heart, and it grieves her deeply to be without you. She bears you no ill will. In fact, she asked me to tell you she knows you did not mean to harm her. She knows you were not yourself.”

He reaches both hands out towards me.  Still slightly delirious, I half expect him to take me by the throat. I freeze in place as my father fastens a fine, silver chain around my neck.

“She loves you,” he says gently, “She loves you, and she forgives you.”

My fingers absently find the star gem resting over my heart, and something beautifully warm and familiar sings in my blood. Feeling Elle’s essence again overwhelms me, and I give way to tears, at last.

“It may be,” I struggle to say, “that she understands now I was not myself. Rationally, of course she knows I would sooner die than lay a hand on her. But in that moment, when she couldn’t breathe, all she knew…” I can hardly speak around the sobs choking me, “all she knew was that her father was killing her.”

“Alucard,” Dracula tries to console me with a hand on my shoulder.

“There can be no forgiveness, and I wouldn’t dare hope for it. If I am to die, so be it. I’ve earned a miserable end for what I’ve done.”

I let my father pull me into his arms, and cling to him with everything left in me.

“My poor boy,” he whispers into my hair, “My poor, poor boy.”

xxx

Chapter Text

xxx

Christopher

“Where is Trevor?” the captain barks.

“My father has been injured and is unable to fight with us. I’m assuming command of his post,” I’m proud of myself for only shaking slightly as I explain.

The captain gives me an appraising look. I think her name is Cyn, or something like that— we’ve only met a handful of times. She’s a couple of years older than me, I remember her basically flying through vanquisher training. Everyone in our cohort admired her. She’s one of our best.

Cyn doesn’t really know me, but she knows I’m Trevor Belmont’s son— and all that implies. And maybe there’s something in my baring that tells her I’m ready for this.

Finally, she nods her head and extends a strong hand to me, “Then, we’re glad to have you with us, captain.”

xxx

Soleil

The castle is in chaos. Lady Lisa, the other medics, and myself, are rushing to help the injured down to the lower levels where its safe, when another blast goes off. This time, much closer to the castle.

There are screams among our party. The old man I met during the last attack holds his wife and brother under each arm, glancing back at me for reassurance.

“It’s alright, keep moving,” Lisa calls over the commotion.

People rush up and down the halls, nearly knocking over a few of our stragglers as we make our way to the stairs.

I spot aunt Violet headed our direction with a gaggle of schoolkids.

“This way, children,” she ushers them ahead of us, single-file and scared silent, “Oh, Sol! I’m so glad to see you. Where’re the others?”

“Mum is already downstairs with dad and the others who can’t walk. Chris is at the front, dad gave him his post.”

That statement hangs between us for a beat.

Violet exhales sharply, eyes brimming with tears of pride and terror, “He’d better come back to us. Or I swear I’ll go get him myself.”

“Soleil,” Lisa calls from the stair way doors, “there are going to be a lot of people in need of medical attention, can you assist me?”

“Right away!” I squawk, “I’m right behind you.”

I link arms with aunt Violet and we follow the others down into the vaults, just as the castle quakes with another impact.

xxx

Alucard

Uncooperative fingers make untangling my hair a chore. Even beside a smoking fire, the chill refuses to leave my bones. Being half undressed isn’t helping matters.

After collecting the rusting pot from the hearth, Dracula comes to sit beside me on my moth-eaten, little bed. He carefully avoids looking at the scar across my chest. Whether out of shame or discretion, I can’t tell. It’s odd to think this mark I’ve carried for so long is entirely new to him.

I no longer intrinsically connect the scar with that first confrontation between us, it’s simply another part of me. Yet, for all this time, my father has never seen the evidence of the wound he dealt.

I flinch at the first touch of the rag, as beads of warm water slide down my back. I’d had every intention of doing this myself, but I’m still tired from my aborted walk to the stream—and crying like a child for the better part of an hour. And since sleeping did not help, I just sit limply, allowing my father to bathe me.

“What is this magic you’ve put in me? I can’t place it.”

“A sealing spell.”

“It’s never been this quiet,” absently, I press my fingers hard between my ribs.

“Good. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get some rest.”

I sniff a laugh, “What’s the point in that, if I’ll be dead soon?”

He doesn’t respond, only continues washing my arms.

“How long?”

“A few days.”

I don’t say anything for a long time as my heart bleeds for Adrielle. Her pendant is a millstone around my neck.

“This seal, will it hold after I’m gone?”

“You have nothing to fear, there is no longer any possibility of this curse fulfilling its purpose. If the seal were to break, the expulsion of power would be more than you could withstand.”

I exhale, long and slow— blissful, solemn ease suffusing through me.

“Then, it will not take me?”

“No, you’ve held on long enough.”

“Thank god,” I sigh, hanging my head.

Father chuckles affectionately, “You sound like a human.”

Something bittersweet twinges at the back of my mind, “Maybe I’ve spent too much time with them. Maybe, if I’d been less concerned with fostering my own humanity, I would have been strong enough from the very beginning. And none of this would ever have happened.”

Even as I say it, I can’t bring myself to truly regret my life anymore. I’ve done well. At least well enough to make up, in some way, for my frailties.

And, after all, I’m leaving behind something very special. As much as I’m sick with worry for her, and her prospects without me here to guide her, the world is unquestionably a brighter place for having Elle in it. All my sufferings are nothing in contrast to the pure joy of her.

“Your humanity is what preserved this land— perhaps the world. Do not reject it now.”

“Turning to less volatile topics, I’ve been thinking how to ask this. Was that my mother in the mirror, or was I only dreaming?”

He gathers my hair from over my shoulder and begins to comb the warm water through with his fingers, “Yes, your mother is at the castle.”

I swear, pinching my eyes shut.

“This really has been the strangest day of my life.”

“Stranger than the day you made a child by magic?”

“Very well, I’ve told you about my misadventures, now I’d like you to explain yours. What magical misfire returned you to life?”

“It was no misfire. Your mother and I were pulled from that other place by a human’s working.”

He tells me the story of how he and mother woke naked in a farmer’s field, with no clear memory how they’d gotten there, and how they’d had to steal clothes from a nearby cottage. I’m enjoying the hilarity of it all so much, I can’t be bothered to sneer at having to recount my dealings with that madman, St Germain.

By the time we’ve finished piecing together the whole story, I’m grinning and lighter in my heart than I have been for weeks. Ten weeks, according to father. I had no idea its already the end of October. Finally having someone to talk to makes it easier to take in that I’ve been alone here for three months.

“Try to rest a while, it’s nearing dawn. Your mother will get in touch when she wakes.”

xxx

Christopher

“On your left! Don’t let them pass the canal!”

“They’ve got night creatures!”

“Have those homes been evacuated?”

“Everyone to the castle, hurry!”

“Retreat, this district is lost!”

“Get down!”

“Captain, look, there— what are those?”

“The Gergoths!”

“They’re firing on the enemy. They’re on our side!”

xxx

Sypha

 No one has slept. Trevor has been going out of his mind with nerves all night, and many of the children who evacuated with Violet are crying for their parents. The vault walls are thick and strong, not at all likely to cave in, but still we fall silent to listen for cracking after every eruption overhead.

Even if the ghoul army could make it into the castle, the vaults are protected by wards tough enough to expel almost anything. I should know, I designed them.

I move quietly through the huddles of shivering people, taking note of every one I can make out in only the sparse candlelight.

Soleil is studiously watching Lisa stitch a wound that’s reopened, the patient is a young boy who’s trying to be brave in front of his baby brother. Trying not to think about Christopher, and how he may be fairing, is impossible. I pray he will return to us, whole and unharmed.

Some of the adults are trying to prepare breakfast with whatever is stored down here. And a handful of older women have started a knitting circle. They’re so skilled, they barely need any light to see their work.

“Did Greta leave?” Trevor asks as I slide down the wall to sit beside his cot.

I run my fingers through his hair, “Yes, about an hour ago. How are you? It should be almost time for your pain relief.”

“Save it. Stuff just makes me sleepy.”

“It’s meant to. You need your rest.”

“How can I rest when you’re thinking about going out there?”

Typical Trevor, able to read my thoughts so acutely.

“Even if Christopher were here with us, I would still volunteer to fight. This is our home.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d feel better knowing you were with him right now. I just hate the idea of both of you somewhere I can’t protect you.”

“For once, Trevor Belmont, it’s our turn to protect you,” I kiss his forehead, “Deal with it.”

“Suppose I have no choice,” he indicates his abdomen.

“There was a time,” I say fondly, “I would have had my hands full trying to keep you down for bedrest.”

He smiles warmly up at me, “Don’t give me that look, love. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Good. Because I’ll only come after you.”

But the reminder of mortality has made the air heavy between us. I know he feels the grief of the impending loss of Alucard as keenly as I do.

“Have you seen her?”

“Not since we spoke in her room yesterday. Or, was it the day before yesterday? God, I’m so tired I can’t be sure.”

“Christ,” he hisses in a whisper, “has anyone checked on Elle? People are going to be asking why Alucard isn’t here, then they’re going to start realizing he’s been gone for weeks. They need to see Elle is still with us.”

“Stop strategizing, and rest. I’ll check with the others. Then, I must be on my way. I love you, remember that.”

We say our goodbyes, and I move across the crowded room to Soleil and Lisa. She’s showing him how to clean the medical equipment. It’s good to see him so absorbed, Soleil’s eyes light up beautifully when he’s engaged like this.

“You’re leaving?” he asks before I can get one word out.

“Yes, I’m going to join your brother. Have either of you seen Elle recently? I know she came down with us, but I haven’t seen her in hours.”

“No,” Lisa bites her lip, chagrined, “I’m not sure when she was last here.”

“She may have gone down the west passage.”

“If you see her, tell her to stay with the group. I have to be on my way.”

Soleil throws his arms around my neck, “Those bastards don’t stand a chance now.”

We stay like that for a long moment, “Don’t worry, my darling, Christopher and I will both be home to you and your father as soon as we can.”

“I know,” he sniffs, and wipes his wet eyes, “Go give them hell.”

Up in the great hall, the squad of volunteer fighters stand together, rigid with anticipation. Many of them are academics and lawyers, a few appear to be stable hands, some aren’t even from Belmont.

The hall is starting to fill up again with cots and tents to house displaced families and the injured. All of our guest accommodations must already be spoken for.

I speak briefly with the captain in charge of this volunteer effort, an old comrade, intending to lend a hand gathering supplies before we depart. But Soleil's comment about Elle having gone down the west vault passage gives me an idea.

“See that every soldier here is fitted with the best of what’s left in the armory, not one of them is to step beyond these doors without a shield and a decent weapon. I’ll be back momentarily.”

If I recall correctly, the west underground passage curves around the kitchens and loops back to let out somewhere near the old greenhouses. Once I’m out of sight of anyone, I sprint for the nearest stairwell.

The castle is eerily quiet, very little of the tumult outside can penetrate this deep within the walls. Only the vibrations of cannon fire and discharging magic can be felt this deep inside.

One hallway gives way to another, on and on until I reach the old chapel. One of the doors is cracked open slightly, and the dust on the ground has been recently disturbed. I sigh with relief and peer inside.

Pale dawnlight pools under the tall, narrow windows, deepening the shadows hiding in the peaked ceiling, and dust dances in the shafts. The air is musty with being shut up for so long. At the end of the long room, the coffin still sits on the dais. Elle lies curled on the lid, long hair spilling over the sides. She doesn’t move when the door hinges croak.

“You should not be up here, please, return to the vaults where it’s safe. Ellie? Are you awake?”

How she could be sleeping with a battle raging only a few miles from here, I don’t know. Yet, she still doesn’t respond as I approach. She’s facing away from me, so I can’t see her eyes, but her cheek is flushed from crying.

“Ellie, sweetling,” but I can’t think of what else to say to her.

“I was born in this room,” she finally mutters.

“I know.”

“Is there any news from the front?”

“Nothing yet. I’m about to join them.”

“Find Jun,” she turns over to stare into my face, “you have to. It’s the only way we can save tati.”

“Oh, Ellie,” I stroke her face and brush the hair from her eyes, “There’s nothing—”

“Don’t.”

“What Alucard needs is for all of us to make it through this— you, most of all. That’s what we can do for him. Yes?”

Elle flinches away from me, hurt and betrayed. I want to comfort her, I want so badly to make her pain go away. But there’s nothing any of us can do. Nothing but wait in this purgatory with her, until we at last receive word that he’s gone.

Waiting for the wound to be delivered can be so much worse than the blow, when it comes. But once it is dealt, healing can begin.

“I have to go, Christopher needs me. I’m begging you, return to the vaults. Stay with your family. You’re not alone in this.”

As I turn to leave, she suddenly reaches out to grab my hand. Still, she does not look at me, but squeezes my fingers. Her hand is so small in mine.

“Please, be careful. I can’t lose either of you.”

xxx

Adrielle

I lay in the chapel for a while longer after Sypha leaves. My eyes hurt from crying, and my shoulder is starting to complain about lying on a hard place for so long. There’s something scratching at the back of my mind. Since Sypha told me about tati, I’ve been franticly trying to think of anything I could do to save him.

I just can’t believe nothing can be done. As long as he’s still alive out there, I refuse to give up.

I’m missing something. I have all the pieces, but I can’t seem to arrange them in the right order. In that case, I should go back to the start. I sit up and pinch between my eyes. What’s the first thing about all of this that I can be sure of?

Jun used powerful magic to cast a corruption curse on tati. Why?

To overwrite his will and make him into a weapon for his war on Belmont. Why? Why attack Belmont?

Because he wants revenge. Revenge for what?

His parent’s deaths, we know that well enough. I need to go back further.

Jun's parents, Sumi and Taka, were from Japan. They fled the country with a band of other survivors from the court of a vampire lord. They wanted to find vampire hunting techniques and weapons to bring back to their homeland. What brought them to Wallachia?

They must have learned about Dracula’s castle from the vampires at the court. They probably didn’t expect anyone to be here, but they found tati. He took them in, and taught them.

Why they did what they did doesn’t matter now. He killed them in self-defense. He killed them here… in Wallachia. In this castle! Could that mean their remains are somewhere in Belmont?

“Oh, my god. That’s it!” I cry.

If I can find their graves, I can use Sypha’s notes to make a tracking spell. Sypha used me to find tati, because we’re related. Jun may not carry pieces of his parents’ souls in him— if they even had souls— but he is their natural son. The spell would work, I’m sure of it.

I have to try. I refuse to give up on tati.

 But where would I even start looking for the bodies? Belmont didn’t exist yet. Was there a family graveyard on the old Belmont estate? Possible. But is it likely that tati would bury the people who hurt him with his friend’s ancestors?

I’ve read through his journal three times, there’s no mention of what he might have done with them after taking them off their stakes.

A shiver ripples up my back, the chapel suddenly too cold and empty.

So, not on the old estate, and not in any of our cemeteries, because they had not been established yet. It would have to be somewhere beyond the castle grounds, he wouldn’t want the constant reminder nearby. But tati has always been the self-punishing type, so he would have kept some kind of reminder or record, or a…

A thumbprint in blood on an old survey map!

I’m on my feet and racing back upstairs in an instant, deaf to the distant sounds of battle.

I crash into tati’s study and nearly pull the entire case down in my rush to find the map I’d read ages ago. Once I yank it from its stack, I half expect the mark to be gone once I unroll the page, like it had only been a dream, or a wish.

But there it is, brown with age and set in the dead-center of the north forest. It would take at least a couple of hours to get there on foot, probably more because every district and neighborhood has been cordoned off with barricades, to prevent the enemy from advancing.

There’s nothing else for it, I’ll have to fly.

Returning to the family apartments, I collect my dagger and shove a few useful things into my pack. I throw open the window and whistle at top volume. My call is answered with a roar from somewhere high up on the roof of the tower.

I swing myself out of the window and scramble down to the courtyard. Imp flaps excitedly as he descends, his wings are too big to make the drop gracefully.

“Thank you for staying close, boy. And for worrying about me.”

He butts his big head into my chest, grumbling happily.

“We have to hurry. Can you get me here?” I show him a psychic image of the map, conveying my meaning in a way he can understand.

It’s strange to use my silent voice again, I haven’t spoken this way in a long time. I haven’t spoken much at all recently.

Imp chirps and stamps his feet, shaking out his lionlike mane. I climb onto his back and he leaps onto the castle wall, talons cracking the masonry, and scales back to the roof. With one great lurch, we’re in the air.

As we rise, I can see the fires burning far away at the broken city walls. The silhouette of Belmont has changed now that so many of the homes on the east side have been razed to contain the flames.

It’s wonderful to be in the sky again, even when it’s filled with smoke and storm clouds. Being weightless like this is liberating. For a short time, I all but lose sight of my cares.

But soon Imp tilts down, and we’re suddenly gliding low over the treetops. He can sense when my anxiety returns because I grip his mane harder, digging in with my knees.

“Here!” I shout over the rush of wind, “We have to drop below the trees.”

The clever drake finds a thin spot in the canopy and slips through, clinging to the thickest tree he can find to slide us to the ground. His claws leave deep gouges in the trunk.

I know most of the woods around the city, but I don’t think I’ve ever been so deep into this wood before. It’s colder here because the evergreens trap all the moisture from the undergrowth. I was in such a hurry to get out here that I forgot to wrap up.

Imp growls uneasily as I dismount. There’s definitely something unpleasant hanging in the air, but it doesn’t feel like anything more than a dense concentration of Jun's diseased magic.

“It’s alright, boy,” I rub up the length of his huge ears, “There’s nothing here. Why don’t you wait for me back at the edge of the forest— you’re pretty squashed in here.”

He hardly fits between the trees, but still insists on staying with me as I begin to pick my way along, map in hand. I’m just guessing that the marker is precisely placed. So, in theory, all I need to do is head directly north. Not that I have any clue what I’m actually looking for.

After crunching through the brush for half an hour, firedrake stubbornly in tow, I begin to get the sense we’re about to pass the center point of the woods.

“It has to be here, somewhere. Imp, I need you to stay right here. I’m going to make a circle and start sweeping inward.”

He doesn’t like that idea, not at all. He puffs and snorts, trying to gingerly take my tunic between his teeth to keep me close.

“Stop it, you giant baby. I’ll be back soon.”

Keeping my focus on Imp’s smoky scent to mark the middle of my search range, I move outward about twenty yards, tripping over every lifted root on the way. Finally deciding this approach is stupid, I climb up into the trees and hop along the branches in a spiral back toward Imp.

When I’ve only covered about a third of the search area, something below catches my eye. Beneath a rain-wilted fern, there’s a flat stone too perfectly placed to have found its way there by itself. I carefully lower myself nearer, unwilling to touch the earth until I know what I’m stepping into.

There are shallow claw marks around the edges of the stone, worn smooth by time. Probably from being levered out of its original spot to be dropped here. The surface is unmarked, no names are etched into it, but I know with chilling certainty this is what I’m looking for.

I whistle, and I’m briefly frightened by all the noise Imp makes as he bashes through the narrow path to get to me. I have to breathe deeply and remind myself I’m not being hunted, and nothing here can hurt me.

He chuffs and chitters at me, hot breath rising in streams. I’m so glad to have him beside me, I couldn’t handle this alone. I take the pry bar and rough, woven sack from my pack and pause for a moment to wonder at myself.

Am I really about to do this? Open a grave to retrieve whatever is left inside?

Tati told me once, a long time ago, that love forces a person to choose. To choose who they will be, and how far they will go. He chose me, every day, no matter how deeply he was hurting, or how hopeless he felt. He fought through, for me. Now I get to return the favor.

I steel my nerve, take a few more deep breaths, and make my choice.

The pry bar sinks into the earth with a satisfying thud. I lean all my weight against the handle, and the stone slowly peels away from the wet earth with a sucking squelch. I let it drop forward and shift it away another few inches with my foot.

“Ok, boy, I need you to dig. But be careful.”

Imp whines, picking up on my rising distress. After a moment of searching my face, he lifts himself to support his mass on the knuckles of his wings and uses his talons to gently scoop enough mud to fill a bucket. It would have taken me ages to do this by myself.

I stand frozen to the spot while Imp digs, feeling sicker every second.

“Wait, stop,” my voice is thick with nausea, “I see something. Can you pull it out?”

While trying to collect the lumpy object gently, his claw hooks into whatever it is and he pulls it free of the muck. Hanging off Imp’s claw is a human skull, snagged through the eye socket. Looking down into the pit, another pair of sockets stares back at me. I have to turn away quickly so I don’t vomit into the open grave.

Imp whines again, worrying he’s done something wrong. When the meager contents of my stomach have all come up, I open the sack to him, keeping my head turned as far as I can.

“Put it in here. That one, too.”

The sudden weight in the bag makes me want to vomit again. The other skull makes a hollow knocking when it drops onto the first. I tie the sack around Imp’s neck and mount up.

“Take me home. And, please, don’t hate me if I’m sick on you.”

xxx

Lisa

“I’m so sorry for not contacting you sooner, it’s madness here.”

“What’s happened? How are things progressing,” Vlad speaks in a whisper, so low I can barely hear him.

“The city has been under attack for two full days, but we’re holding out. There’s been a lull, so the first wave of fighters is returning to the castle for rest later today.”

“Good. Is the girl with you?”

“No, I couldn’t find her in the chaos. We spent last night sheltering, I’ve only been back in the fresh air for a few minutes. And,” I hesitate, throat closing up, “I wanted to check on things with you two first. Then, I’ll know what to prepare her for.”

He doesn’t reply for just slightly too long, and my heart sinks into my stomach.

“He was up and talking last night. But his fever spiked again a couple of hours ago, and he says the pain has returned.”

“Is there anything you can do?”

“I’ll enhance the sealing spell, that should make him more comfortable. But once I do, it’s likely he will not wake again… before the end. He wanted a chance to speak with you first.”

“Is he there now?” I ask, working hard to keep my voice calm.

“I said I would wake him when I heard from you. Give me a moment, then I’ll leave you two alone.”

I wait with baited breath, straining to catch Vlad’s whispered words. But the connection between the mirrors is still faint, there isn’t even an image in the glass, only swirling fog. I won’t be able to see my child’s face one last time.

“…your mother… do you want to sit up…? slowly… take my arm… that’s it… I’ll just step outside,” Vlad says gently, “call out if you need anything.”

Another interminable silence where I can only catch the soft shifting of blankets, and a brief, pitiful whimper.

“Mother?” Adrian’s voice is thin, shivery and disbelieving.

“I’m here, sweet boy,” I can no longer hold back my tears.

“I’ve missed you.”

All my careful physician’s detachment crumbles instantly, leaving my mother’s heart exposed and bleeding.

“I’ve miss you, too. I’m sorry that we didn’t come back to you sooner.”

He doesn’t respond, only exhales slowly, like he’s breathing through a spike of pain.

“How are you?”

“Tired…”

“Have you been able to eat, or feed?”

“Yes. It’s safe to feed again.”

I would very much like to know what the hell that means, but now isn’t the time.

“Is your father taking good care of you?” I wonder if I should have chosen some other way of referring to Vlad, but if Alucard minds, he says nothing about it.

“He hasn’t left my side.”

I ask a few more simple questions, just trying to fill the distance between us with words. Not being able to take him in my arms is slowly tearing me to pieces.

He replies as best he can, pausing often to catch his breath or wait until his head stops spinning.

“You’ve met Ellie, have you?”

“Oh, my dearest, she’s wonderful! So sweet and clever. And terribly soft when you hold her.”

He tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a sob, “She is, she’s perfect. How is she? Has she been unwell?”

“None of us can imagine what she’s going through. But she’s mending, thanks to your Speaker friend and her son.”

“Stay with her. Father… he promised he would watch over her. But there’s no way for him to stay near— provide for her— unless she were to leave Wallachia.”

“You don’t need to worry about this now—”

“Just promise me you’ll stay with her. She’ll need a family of her own, she isn’t a Belmont. You don’t age anymore, that’s what father said. So, you can take her in.”

“Hush, don’t excite yourself. If that’s what you want, then yes, I’d be honored. Thrilled, even. She’s such an easy little creature to love.”

“I know. She doesn’t give one much of a choice.”

He sounds every bit the adoring father. It’s easy to see why his baby girl is so attached to him.

“Honestly, I would have stayed without you needing to ask. I can’t picture going back to a life where I don’t know her.”

Another pained laugh, “Yes, she certainly has that effect.”

He suddenly bites down on a noise of pain, and curses under his breath.

“Do you want to go back to sleep for a while?”

“No,” he grits out, “Can you bring Elle to me?”

“Oh— yes, yes of course.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly, lest he assume something has happened to her, “Only, I wasn’t sure if you would want to speak with her. I’m glad you do.”

“I don’t have time left to waste on cowardice,” he huffs bitterly, “I have to speak with her… apologize. And say goodbye. She deserves that much, at least.”

“Very well,” I reply hurriedly, to get the words out before my tears drown my voice again, “She isn’t here, just now. But I’ll find her and bring her to you as soon as I possibly can.”

“Thank you, for everything you’ve done. Then, and now.”

He sounds on the verge of collapse, drained of both energy and will.

“You were, and are, my pride and joy, Alu— Adrian.”

His breath hitches to hear his given name, but again, he says nothing about it.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hush. If Elle deserves to hear it, so do you. I knew from the moment you were born that this world was better for having you in it. I always knew you would do incredible things. And I’m always right, as you know. But, god… I couldn’t have imagined, when I was holding you in a little, squirmy blanket bundle, just how right I was. I am so proud of you, sweet boy. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to watch you shine.”

I can hear tiny gasps on the other side of the mirror, muffled under his hand.

“I love you with all my heart. I always will.”

“Love you, too…” he murmurs.

“Go back to sleep, darling. I’ll bring your Ellie to you soon. Until then, just rest.”

I let him know I’m going to close the connection, and allow the mirror box lid to fall shut.

There isn’t any time for breaking down. I need to find my granddaughter, immediately— and the castle is still short on medical staff. Bathing my face from the jug on the stand, I compose myself in the looking glass and stride purposefully out of my rooms. There will be ample time for grief later.

xxx

Christopher

“What the hell is this?” Sol exclaims.

“Please, tell me those have always been here. For anatomy lessons, or something.”

The skulls in the middle of the floor are caked with drying mud, and stained from a long time in the earth.

“Definitely not.”

“Jesus, fuck, ok,” I’m nearly panting with mounting anxiety and have to force myself to remain calm, this may have nothing to do with Elle, “We’ve got to find her.”

I’d barely been home for five minutes before Sol came racing down the hall at top speed, crashing right into me and gasping about how Lisa needed him to help look for Elle.

With how panicked he was, I thought maybe Elle had gone missing again. He said he didn’t think that was the case, but no one has seen her for almost an entire day, and Alucard is running out of time to say goodbye to her.

I was alarmed and more than a little pissed off that no one had been keeping track of her, but decided to keep it to myself as I followed Sol. We’ve been unable to find her anywhere in the castle, and the alchemy laboratory is another bust.

“Look! That’s her pack, there, on the table!” Sol says, grabbing my arm.

“Look at the size of this array,” I indicate the floor, and the huge alchemy working surrounded by chunks of clear crystal.

The smell of magic is so heavy from the still-warm circle, even I can catch it.

“It’s definitely Elle’s magic. What was she thinking, using a dozen loadstones? Wait, hold on…” Sol walks around the array, studying its construction, “This is a tracking spell!”

“You sure?”

“It’s imperfect, but yes. That explains the stones. These kinds of workings can take days to complete, she wanted it done faster.”

“I’m impressed the whole thing didn’t just explode.”

“That doesn’t mean it will actually work, though.”

“Ok, so, what the hell is she tracking?” as I ask the question, something slimy and unsettled crawls in my gut, I nod to the skulls in the middle of the spell, “You think those are that Jun-guy’s parents?”

Sol goes white, staring wide eyed at me, “She’s going after him.”

“Come on, let’s move. Maybe she hasn’t left yet.”

I awkwardly kick the skulls into the old sack heaped beside the spell circle— I’m pretty sure I’ll puke if my skin even grazes them— and we sprint from the laboratory, running flat out for the stable yard.

“Wait, Chris, there!”

Sol slides to a dead stop in the atrium and points out the doors to a courtyard. Elle is mounting that firedrake and giving it the command to take off.

“Oh, absolutely not,” we make for the door, but aren’t fast enough to stop her getting airborne.

I let my whip fly, getting the drake by the tail, and yanking it back to the ground. It flaps wildly back to the cobble stones, snapping its dagger-like fangs and snarling. Elle has to hold on tight to keep from slipping off.

“What the fuck, Christopher?” she spits.

“You know, I don’t like this new language you’ve been using.”

She growls, baring her teeth. But then her eyes turn pleading, “Let me go, I’m running out of time. I have to find Jun, and get him to tell me how to release the curse.”

“We’re not trying to stop you, kid,” I say, quickly gathering up my whip.

That brings her up short, “You’re not?”

“We’re going with you,” Sol answers.

I approach and take her little face in my hands, “We’re not letting our baby cousin go out there alone, not a fucking chance.”

She looks deep in my eyes, and her own fill with tears, “I’m older than you.”

“Doesn’t matter. Now,” I say brusquely, “can this beast carry two?”

The drake snorts like he’s offended I would even ask.

“Just two?” Elle asks, glancing back at Soleil.

“Don’t worry,” he says, forming a pad of ice and stepping aboard, “I can keep up like this.”

She blesses us with a watery smile, and clears her scratchy throat, “Yeah, Imp can fit two. Get on.”

I’ve never flown before, and Elle's impatience makes the drake way too excited to get back in the air. He starts for the gates before I’ve even got my bearings.

I shout as we take off, and they both laugh at me.

“Not scared are you, captain?” Sol teases.

Elle guides my hand to reach around her and hold onto Imp’s mane, it’s coarse and greasy, and offers decent purchase.

“See?” Sol calls above the wind, he’s kneeling over to hold onto the edge of his ice puck, “It’s fun. Calm down.”

“I am very calm!” I snap, “Can’t you tell how calm I am?”

“We found your working. Where are we going, anyway?”

Elle giggles, “Old Danesti, hang on!”

The drake dips sharply, then angles up to catch an easterly wind. With a current under its wings, the ride becomes much smoother. Gasping, I try to lean over Elle’s back to flatten our profile.

“You got it,” she encourages, “We’ll take the long way to avoid the ghoul camp. Sol, stay close, we’ll land at the logging yard.”

“Got it!”

“Well,” I snicker, “at least you bothered to make a plan before you went haring off.”

She elbows me in the ribs, and I poke at her tummy with my free hand, making her squeal. It’s so good to hear Ellie laugh again.

It takes half the time to reach the Danesti settlement than it would on horseback. We aren’t very high up, but still, it’s sort of incredible to see the world from above like this. I can see why Elle has always enjoyed being up in high places.

The logging yard is predictably empty, all the workers have been evacuated. Imp drops behind one of the towering piles of felled trunks, and Elle slips gracefully down. My dismount is clumsier, my legs are shaky and my sense of balance is completely skewed.

“Easy,” she tries to prop me up, “catch your breath and tell us about Danesti. What was the evacuation plan?”

“There wasn’t one. As far as I know, the trades people were still working until the assault began.”

“Everything seems so quiet here,” Sol observes, tilting his face up to feel the air, “there’s been no fighting here yet.”

“Those bastards probably just showed up at the town gates and demanded to be let in. What were a bunch a blacksmiths and carpenters going to do against a horde of ghouls with monsters at their backs?”

“I suppose we’re about to find out,” Sol quips, “Do we know what we’re looking for?”

“He’ll be in his tent,” says Elle, “It’s tall enough to hold that huge transmission mirror.”

“I can’t believe he’s been this close, all this time.”

“I don’t think he has. He’s probably been hiding out somewhere far away, while his ghouls did the work for him.”

“Just came back to see the carnage, huh? Well, I’m glad we’re disappointing him. Let’s move, stay quiet.”

I take the lead as we leave the lumber yard and make our way down one of the access roads that leads to the store yards behind many of the workshops. I apprenticed here as a smith for a few months before I became a city guardsman, hopefully I can remember the lay out of the town.

We trek through the brush behind a pig farm, and I have to whack Sol over the head to stop him laughing when I step in pig shit. Elle is too quick to whack.

“This way,” she whispers, “smell that?”

I cringe, and Sol covers his face against the stink of dark magic.

“There aren’t as many ghouls as I thought there would be,” he says.

“He’ll definitely have a personal guard with him,” Elle informs us.

 I wave off her concern, “We can take care of them, no problem.”

Sol hums uneasily and turns in the slow circle, “I don’t see any of our people, either.”

I snort, “Think they’ve been eating the villagers?”

Now it’s my turn to take a knock on the head.

“Don’t say things like that,” he hisses, “Whoever got left behind after the evacuation is likely just laying low in their homes. Trying not to draw attention to themselves.”

“Will you two shut up?” Elle interrupts our quibbling and directs our attention to a gaudy tent in the town square.

“Well,” says Sol, “he certainly wasn’t worried about ambush, was he?”

“He’s over confident,” Elle replies.

“There’s a gang of soldiers headed this way,” I say, trying to count how many pairs of footsteps I can hear, “we’ll wait for them to pass, then move.”

We stay hidden deep in an alley between a smith’s workshop and a sewist, poised and ready to spring. The ghoul soldiers march past, stolen weapons and tool slung lazily over their shoulders, and the three of us slip along behind them until we can crawl under the back panel of the tent.

“Damn,” I sigh, “guess we’ll have to wait for him to get back. Too bad, I was hoping to grab him fast.”

“I agree,” Elle mutters, “the longer we’re here, the more things can go wrong.”

Sol makes a noise like he’s impressed, hands on his hips, standing in front of an enormous mirror propped up by a wooden brace.

“Is this the same one, Elle?”

She nods, glaring disdainfully at it.

“Bit much,” I sniff and walk away like it doesn’t interest me at all, “Sol, break the link on that thing, would you?”

My little performance makes Elle giggle again.

“Already on it.”

Now, if anyone is coming into the tent, it will be through the entrance flaps. Secure the space, keep yourself safe— as dad used to say.

In the meantime, we poke around the place. There is a simple bed, a table with assorted junk cluttering it, a couple of trunks with nothing useful, and a map of the world open on a crate that also doesn’t have anything useful in it.

The map seems to hold Elle’s attention, and I leave Sol to go over the letters on the table to see what’s so interesting about it.

“Look at these,” she traces two lines of splotchy ink on the map that almost perfectly parallel each other from Japan to Wallachia.

“You think he’s been following in his parent’s footsteps?”

“Trying to learn what they learned.”

“And that means, what? He knew where they went? How? I thought he was a baby when they died.”

“They might have been communicating with the other survivors of Cho’s court, back home.”

“I think you’re right,” Sol pipes up, rifling through papers, “look at these.”

He shows us a packet of letters bound with fraying twine. At least, they’re folded like letters, but I don’t recognize the language written on them.

I put the bundle in my belt pouch, “Good find, lets hunker down. I want to be ready when that son of a bitch turns up.”

xxx

Chapter Text

xxx

Adrielle

We form up, Christopher and Soleil planting themselves firmly to either side of me. After only a couple of jittery minutes, there are footsteps closing in outside the tent. Chris tries to guide me to stand fully behind him, but I insist on staying where I am. I will not hide behind someone else when I face Jun again.

He’s the first one to duck through the curtain, his dark eyes find me immediately, and flash with glee.

Jun laughs, almost cackles, “Well, shit. I have to admit, I’ll surprised to see you again, princess.”

His men file in behind him, but Chris and Sol are ready to meet them. The creaking of the leather whip and warmth of alchemical fire behind me make me brave.

“Tell your men to drop their weapons,” I order.

He just chuckles, “You think they’re the only ones here with me? There are dozens of my soldiers in this village, you can’t take them all on.”

“I have no intention of trying, I’m only here for you.”

“What? Is this the best the great city of Belmont could muster— three children?”

“Surrender now, and you will not be harmed,” says Chris.

Jun turns his sharp gaze on the boys and drawls, “Where’s the fun in that? Kill them all.”

In the space of a breath, Jun's form vaporizes and he drifts between his guards to flee the tent, and the ghouls come at us.

“Ellie, go!” Chris cries, “We can handle them!”

The crash of weapons rings around me as I break for the curtain, whistling as hard as I can. As I follow the reeking cloud of Jun's essence down the main road, Imp screeches overhead.

I scale the nearest tall building, the church tower, and throw myself from the façade onto his back. He sails onward without missing a beat.

“Don’t lose him!”

Imp dips right and dives to fly closer to the ground. We’re close enough to Jun that I could almost reach out and touch the wispy trail of his magic. Imp snaps his jaw, trying to bite at him like a cattle dog, driving Jun toward the town palisade walls.

But Jun turns abruptly in the wrong direction, and within seconds we’re plunged into the forest. Momentum carries Imp and I far from the tree line before he can stop himself. We bring down a number of young trees on our tumble.

Imp can’t fly properly in here— his wings are too wide to get easily around the trees and rocks, and we’re forced to stop. Imp and I all but crash into the mud, and I expect to feel Jun's presence fade into the forest.

But instead, he begins to circle around us at a safe distance. He still hasn’t rematerialized.

“What’s wrong?” I call out, glancing frantically around, “Afraid to get too close?”

“You’re the one who is afraid, little girl,” his voice is everywhere and nowhere, I can’t pin it down, “I felt your terror the moment you followed me in here. Poor, Adrielle, all alone in the dark woods. There could be anything in here with you.”

Imp stamps and puffs jets of fire, he can feel my fear. So, Jun knows what his ghouls put me through in the highlands.

“You’re wrong. You think you’ve trapped me in here, but this is my forest, I’ve played in here since I was new.”

“With your tati?” his circling voice jeers, and I let my anger ignite my own power.

“That’s right, he showed me every inch of this valley. You haven’t seen any of it, you’ve been far away, cowering in your sad, little castle,” I curl my lip and lick my fangs, “You’re trapped in here with me.”

I push my magic into Imp, keying into his soul and fusing us. Then, the flames puffing from his jaws are no longer coming from his own body, but from mine. Their color shifts from red to blinding sapphire, and Imp can clearly feel the change.

I guide him psychically to pour fire out to our right, and the spout catches its target. Jun shrieks, this otherworldly magic interrupting his own, forcing him to reform from mist.

At a distance, maybe ten yards, Jun scrambles out of the mud and bears his ghoul’s fangs at me. He uses simple telekinesis to lift himself off his feet and darts away between the trees.

Good, now that he’s solid again, he’ll actually have to navigate his way through the woods. That means I can herd him where I want him to go.

“Head for the river, we can cut him off at the falls.”

Imp takes off above the trees, I keep my focus on Jun below, so we don’t lose track of him while he’s out of sight. The river is wide enough for three barges to sail comfortably, banked by stretches of pebbly earth to either side.

“Get abreast of him! We can’t let him break for Danesti!”

Jun may not know this valley, but Danesti is close enough to the mountains that he could make a break for freedom. We glide down to fly close to the water, barely disturbing the surface. Imp is a powerful flier, and can easily keep pace with a common ghoul.

Imp breathes his holy fire into the trees, though they don’t burn. Only something corrupted will catch this flame, and be burned clean. Jun can’t get upwind of us to get away, and he won’t dare turn around. I have enough clearance out on the water that I could easily turn in any direction.

Blasts of flame and pure power spray from the trees, but their heat only glances off me. From the corner of my eye, I can just catch flashes of Jun as the woods begin to thin out.

We are fast approaching the end of this branch of the river, keeping Jun headed towards the steep drop of the falls, rather than let him slip across the fork to the other shipping lane.

As soon as Jun notices he’s headed for a cliff, he grinds to a stop and I pull imp up hard, and leap from his back. Rather than plummeting into the freezing river, I feel like I drift in the air for longer than I should. I’ve never been able to quite work out how to fly, but this must be what it feels like.

My aim is perfect, and I slam into Jun so hard it knocks the wind from both of us. We land hard on the rocky earth, and I scramble fully on top of him, and press the point of my dagger to his throat.

I can’t get enough air. My scars constrict my throat like a fist, and my heart is pounding. I’ve got him, he’s mine. He tries to fight me off, but I’m at least as strong as he is, and once I pin his arms under my knees, it’s over.

“Easy, princess,” he pants, “you don’t want to do that.”

My knife is poised above his face, “But I could. You miss your mummy and daddy that much? Maybe I should send you to join them in hell.”

My whole body is shaking with rage, and my rapidly dwindling power crackles over my skin. Imp crowds in close, preventing escape from the opposite side with his bulk.

With a cry, I bring the blade down with all my force directly beside Jun's head. His pathetic squeak of fear satiates my urge for violence enough to let me focus. Still gasping, I bite into my wrist and let my blood rain onto him.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up.”

I lift my weight off him and twist him roughly onto his front, then up onto his knees. Once I’m back on my feet, I yank his arms behind his back and reach into my pocket to retrieve the circlet. Snapping it onto his bent wrist, I dart out of the way so the bands won’t slice me when they discharge.

Jun cries out helplessly as the restraints wind around him and sear through his clothes.

“Stop struggling. The harder you fight, the worse it will be for you.”

“What the fuck is this?”

“An old hunter’s trick. Unpleasant, isn’t it?”

Now that he’s immobilized, I’m free to catch my breath. I have to lean into Imp’s shoulder to keep upright, I’m still quivering and my head is spinning. Imp whines and gathers me close under his wing.

“I’m ok, boy,” I say as I mount up, “Come on, grab him. We have to get back to Chris and Sol.”

Imp wraps his huge, clawed feet around Jun, who is still trying to wriggle free.

“I told you to stop struggling, but, please yourself.”

We take to the air, Jun hanging limp from my drake’s talons.

It only takes a few minutes before we’re swooping down into the Danesti square, where the boys are still holding back a swarm of enemy mercenaries. But now, the villagers have emerged to lend their aid.

Everyone scatters as Imp descends, screeching with all his might. The Soldiers freeze in place, completely dumbstruck, when I drop their trussed-up leader in front of them. Imp does not take his foot off Jun's back.

Chris whoops so hard his voice cracks, and Sol looks about to burst with pride.

“It’s over!” I shout, “Surrender now, and you may be spared!”

These ghouls were never taught the diplomacies of war in this land, but they clearly grasp that they cannot continue their mission if their master is now my prisoner.

The villagers whisper among themselves. I let myself imagine they sound impressed.

“Send your delegates to Belmont to negotiate, or we will simply wipe you out. That’s a promise.”

“And who are you to give us orders?” sneers the man who forced tati and I through the mirror that night.

Imp catches my flash of indignation and shrieks around a spray of brilliant flame. The ghouls trip few steps back.

My voice explodes like a dragon’s roar, “I am the lady Adrielle of Wallachia, daughter of Alucard, and I speak for my father. Your war is over.”

“Take him, we’ll tidy up here and meet you back at the castle. Hurry,” Chris calls, turning his sword on the ghoul who addressed me.

Without another word, I give the command to fly, and push Imp as fast as he can go. Time hasn’t run out yet, I have to hold onto that hope.

As well as let myself look forward to a few minutes from now, when I can slam a cell door closed behind Jun. I did it. Everything’s going to be ok.

xxx

Lisa

“Do you think it will snow today?” asks the woman called Violet.

Sypha spares only a glance at the sky, and shrugs. Her eyes are closed, and she’s sitting on the wall that hems in the courtyard steps.

I should return inside, maybe recheck the libraries. These two have no idea where Adrielle is, and I’m running out of time. Where could she be?

“Those don’t look like rain clouds anymore,” Violet continues, more to herself than either of us.

Overhead, the city bells ring out. We all flinch at their booming song, and the other women’s faces split into hesitant smiles.

“Is that the ceasefire signal?” Violet asks, gripping Sypha’s arm.

“I think so,” she replies in utter amazement.

“Why?” I ask, “What’s happened?”

Sypha is about to respond when there is suddenly a hurricane of flapping wings from somewhere above the nearby tower roof. An enormous horse-sized bat creature drops heavily into the yard, carrying a panting Elle on its back.

“We got him!” she cries, “I handed him over to Greta just now. It’s over, we won!”

“Slow down,” Sypha says as she, Violet, and I cross the courtyard.

“I caught Jun, his ghouls surrendered.”

We share a look of hesitant relief, no one knowing quite what to say.

“Did you hear me? Chris and Sol will be back soon, they have some of Jun's letters that will need to be translated. I’m going to the holding cells, I just wanted to tell you.”

She’s beaming, eyes shining with hope. It wrings my heart that I have to take that hope from her. Somehow, I have to make her understand that It doesn’t matter what information they can extract from the enemy, it’s already too late for her father.

“Elle, dear,” I stop her before her mount can fly off again.

She stares at me as if she’s only just noticed I’m here, a little disoriented with excitement.

“What is it? I have to hurry.”

“Please, come indoors with me for a few minutes, I have to speak with you.”

My words are light, casual even, but she catches something in me that makes her face go slack with horror. Silently, she slips off her furry friend and takes my offered hand. The bells are still singing.

xxx

Adrielle

She’s telling me it’s too late. That there is nothing more we can do. Which doesn’t make any sense.

I did it. I brought Jun to Belmont. It’s over, we won. He has the answer. Doesn’t he? How can tati be out of time? I was flying as fast as I could.

Lisa is talking to me, but her voice keeps fading in and out. I nod stupidly. What did I just agree to?

All my feelings are too big right now. And I’m too small to do anything to stop this.

She opens a mirror chest, and the pieces rise out. What was that about the connection needing time to open.

Why is she leaving the room?

I sit on my bed, my little writing desk pulled up in front of me to hold the mirror box. When did I get here? I don’t remember washing all that mud off me. My skin is soft and my new clothes smell of lilacs.

Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. I did it. It’s over now. Tati will be home soon. It’s not too late.

xxx

Alucard

I only have to stay awake a little longer. I’ll be past my pain soon enough, but I can’t allow myself to slip away until I hear Ellie’s voice again.

The world beyond my closed eye lids is so distant now. The cellar walls have evaporated, leaving me floating in my boiling sea.

Where is father? Is he still with me? Or, am I all alone again.

I try to move my fingers, but only manage a twitch. My extremities are far away, on the outside.

A light squeeze in response. He’s still holding my hand.

I can hear faint whimpering. Is that me? Father is speaking gently, but his voice is only a quiet humming. I can no longer hear him clearly beneath the surface.

No matter what I say, or how much I beg in my fevered confusion, he has sworn not to increase the sealing spell until he hears from my mother.

Time passes slowly. And I do all I can to fight against the current pulling me deeper.

Eventually, I’m being aided to sit up, and another blanket is wrapped over my shoulders. The movement stirs my mind a little, and I return to the outside world by degrees.

Father’s voice drifts through the lancing pain in my head, “The mirror’s connection has opened. It’s your daughter. She’s come to speak with you, just as you asked.”

I try to speak, but it requires immense effort.

“Take your time. I’m going to wait above again, is that alright?”

I nod, and he slowly retreats to offer us privacy.

As my senses return, I am hit all at once with the gravity of what I must now do.

“Tati,” a teary, little voice barely makes it through the mirror.

My heart kicks, throbbing painfully. I don’t say anything for too long, trying to figure out how to get my voice past my lips, and my little bird peeps at me again.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I croak.

“Are you ok?”

I wish I could reassure her, tell her everything will be alright. But lying won’t help her now.

“Never mind about me. How are you?”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Very much.”

“When are you coming home?”

My poor girl sounds like she hasn’t slept for days. Maybe it would have been better to ask mother to stay in the room with her, she doesn’t seem to realize what’s happening.

“I’m not coming home, Ellie.”

She begins to ramble at me, saying things I can’t quite understand. It’s over, we won, I caught him.

“Ellie, my darling, be still and listen to me.”

To my surprise, she falls silent for a moment.

“I don’t have much time left—”

“No.”

“Has my mother explained things to you?”

“No, no!” she cries over and over.

As my heartrate rises, so does the pain. It’s difficult to keep the fog at bay.

“Ellie, please—”

“But we got him. We can help you now.”

I hush her, all but begging her to hear me.

Speaking slowly and as clear as I can manage, I try again to explain, “Elle, there’s nothing more to be done. Very soon, this curse will finish eating its way through my soul, and I will die.”

She begins to wail. Just screaming until her little voice gives out, making the mirror shards ring with her grief. What few words of comfort I can force out through my tears can’t reach her like this, and I’m left with no choice but to wait in her pain with her. I would do anything, give anything, if only I could have spared her this.

“Forgive me.”

“Please, don’t leave me. Please, please!”

“I don’t want to, darling, but I must. So, I need you to listen. I don’t have long.”

Elle sniffs and tries to be brave.

“You are my world, Adrielle. From the day you came to me, I have loved you fiercely, and I will love you until I take my final breath.”

The pain is making it hard to form the words, and there is so much I need to say. But I can feel my strength waning, and I know I will have to bring this to an end soon.

“I love you, too. You’re the best tati in the world.”

I smile, and hope she can hear how those words have warmed me, “You deserve nothing but my best. You are the greatest joy I have ever known, don’t ever forget that.”

Elle’s reply comes out so choked with tears that I can’t understand any of it. The darkness is closing in fast, and I don’t want me collapsing to be the last she hears of me.

“I have to go now, sweet one.”

“No!”

“Be good for me. Be good to the others. Be brave, and know that I loved you with all my heart and soul. Farewell.”

It takes everything left in me to close the mirror’s chest. Once the link is severed, I let myself be washed away in my grief.

Father hears my cries and returns without a sound, gathering me to his chest. I’m ready now, and I give him permission to perform the working that will lower me into the darkness forever.

xxx

Chapter Text

xxx

Greta

“Hold on, would you? You really shouldn’t be walking this far.”

Trevor trudges ahead of me, determined not to be stopped or slowed, “I can walk wherever I damn well please.”

“Ok, at least I know you’re feeling better.”

I stay a step behind him in case he collapses on the way to the dungeons.

“I can’t believe my fucking kids had to go get that son of a—”

“You have to admit, though, the trick with the tracking spell was impressive.”

“She should have asked for help.”

“She had no time to stop and look for a mage, she did her best.”

“Stop trying to handle me, this isn’t a council gathering.”

“No, this is a stairway that leads to the cells where a valuable hostage is being kept. And I’d like you to calm yourself before we reach the bottom.”

“You heard what Alucard’s mum just told us, you heard Elle screaming. You calm down!”

Trevor needlessly kicks the door open and strides into the corridor of cells. It’s dark and wet down here, and the air stinks of old, rotting earth. We’re both stunned to find Elle leaned against the wall opposite the hostage’s compartment.

What is she doing? It hasn’t even been an hour since she spoke with Alucard, she should be recovering her strength, not lurking down here.

“Open it,” she demands, all tone and color gone from her.

Trevor and I exchange a look of concern.

“I said, open it.”

Reluctantly, Trevor takes the key ring from his belt and unlatches the first door. He clears inside before moving back and allowing Elle to be the first over the threshold.

The young man has retreated to the far wall, posture stiff as a board. Trevor brings in the rickety chair the guards use, and spins it to face us.

“Sit,” he says, clearly not about to take any refusal.

Jun sweeps his tangled hair from his face and does as he is told. He’s not what I was expecting. I was told he was young, around twenty-two years at the most, but it’s creepy to actually be faced with someone not that much older than my eldest child.

Trevor and I had our own reasons for coming to speak with the prisoner, but we agree without even looking at each other that this is Elle’s show now. I stand at Elle’s right, Trevor at her left, sending a clear message— we’re just reinforcements. No matter how deep our anger, Elle is the truly wronged party in this cell.

She steps forward and strikes Jun hard across the face. He reels back, groaning and pressing a hand to his bleeding cheek.

“I would suggest you comply, or that will be the least painful thing that happens to you down here,” Trevor warns.

Elle draws in a slow breath, jaw tight, “That curse was supposed to make my father your puppet of war, isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Jun says through gritted teeth.

“You were going to use him to destroy us.”

“Yes.”

“Then you should know, all of your plans have come to nothing,” her reedy voice is clipped and sure, but she’s otherwise half limp with exhaustion.

It’s hard to believe this is the same little warrior who just ended the siege of Belmont.

“I told you,” she says, “I warned you that you had severely underestimated him.”

“There will be no negotiation,” I tell the prisoner, “we’re beyond that now.”

He asks what I’m talking about, and I’m surprised to see him quivering. Elle told us this guy was an insufferable windbag, but it seems all the hot air has gone right out of him.

“If my father is still alive at this moment, he probably only has hours left. But the curse has been sealed away, and will die with him. You have lost.”

“Junichi, of the Land of the Rising Sun,” I say evenly, “for your trespasses against this land and its people, and for the murder of Alucard of Wallachia—”

“He isn’t even dead yet!”

I level a glare at him that could peel paint, “You will face trial here in Belmont. If you are given your life, it will only be a temporary reprieve, to allow you a chance to clean up the fucking mess you made.”

“Then, we’ll gladly watch you die,” Trevor spits, “like the diseased animal you are.”

“Do you know the worst part of all this?” Elle asks, “It was pointless from the very start. Your parents came to this place seeking a way to free their home from evil vampires. The world they dreamed of has come, the days of the old aristocracy are gone. And if you had only stayed away from here, you could have been a part of it.”

“But you couldn’t see past your bloodlust,” says Trevor, “Just like the vampires your people despised. You know, if I had to guess just by looking at you, I’d say that’s what you wanted. We found someone to translate the pack of letters confiscated from your quarters.”

“They were from your parents,” Elle continues, “they were writing to the other survivors that raised you, telling them all about their travels. All the mages and vampires they manipulated and murdered for their secrets.”

It chills me to the bone to hear Elle say these things. She’s been keeping up with the details of this better than any of us knew.

Trevor nearly growls, “They wanted to be all-powerful, is that it? So, the ends justified the means?”

“You don’t know what it was like!”

“Neither do you. You were, what, two years old when they abandoned you to go off on their murder quest?”

“They would have come back, they were taken from me. I was only doing what any good son would do.”

“Christ, you really believe that.”

“I saw your map in Danesti,” Elle says, “you were following the route they took across Europe. The letters are how you knew Dracula’s castle was your parent’s final target before they died. They didn’t know my father lived here. They hoped to plunder this castle and move on— return home.”

“You were following in mummy and daddy’s footsteps,” sneers Trevor, “Doing just what they did, killing more powerful mages to steal their work. That’s how you learned to make ghouls, and that’s how you found the curse, isn’t it?”

“What did you think?” I ask, “That you could become as powerful as a vampire lord? That you could bring the world under your heel? That’s exactly what they wanted.”

“But you’re no vampire lord, are you?” says Trevor, lip curling, “Just a slithering ghoul with delusions of greatness.”

Jun's gaze turns inward for a moment, then fixes cold and unfeeling on Ellie, “He was holding out on them. They were desperate.”

“They were drunk on power and seriously fucked in the head,” I laugh.

“Shut up, you bitch!”

Elle slaps him again, “You will speak to her with respect.”

“Or what, princess?”

“Or, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

Damn, my little bird is all done taking bullshit, and threatening violence. I would be proud, if it weren’t so viscerally upsetting to witness.

“Your parents had hard lives, and their pain drove them to make bad choices,” Elle says patiently, “But now, you have the freedom to choose differently.”

“Freedom? I’m in a prison cell!”

“But the choice is still yours— to bear their pain as your own, or let it go.”

“What are you on about? You sound like you’ve gone mad.”

Elle sighs, but then seems to perk up minutely, “The guards will change shifts soon, and you’ll have a chance to wash and take a meal. I think you could use it. So, I’ll ask one thing, then leave you in peace.”

“Fine. What do you want?”

“What can you tell me about the curse? Where did it come from? Who built it?”

“I don’t recall, it’s been years.”

“Really?” Trevor drawls, “You just happened to stumble on incredibly powerful corruption magic, that was just the lucky break you were searching for, and you have no idea where you were at the time?”

“That’s the truth. I didn’t even know what it was when I first found it. It was in segments, the magician who built it originally had to assemble it piecemeal. Probably so it wouldn’t detonate and level their whole village.”

“Ok, there has to be something you can tell me about it,” Elle tries to keep him focused, “What sort of magic is it? No one has been able to tell for sure. We could only read some of the runes.”

“All I know is that I made the core myself. The rest was just guess-work.”

Trevor snorts, “Talented, aren’t you?”

Elle shoots him a look over her shoulder.

Covering her face with her hands, she pauses to compose herself, “Is the core the part of the working that attaches the curse to the soul? Was that clause already in there when you found it?”

“That was my own creation. Why?”

“You understand the magic of the soul, then?”

Jun‘s eyes glint, like he’s actually interested in her questions, impressed that she’s onto something.

“Yes, it’s always come naturally to me.”

“Me, too.”

“Perhaps there’s something about children born of their parent’s pain, huh?”

“How could you know about that?”

“I can sense it. You say I carry my mother and father’s suffering like it’s my own, but what about you?”

Elle shakes her head, smiling sadly, “In a way, you’re right. My father was in a dark place when I came into his life.”

“Looks like we both got caught in the crossfire.”

His face falls, and the mocking tinge disappears from his words. He looks like nothing more than a dejected boy.

“Yes, we did. We were both innocents, swept up in other people’s need to outrun their agony. My father in trying to end his life, and your parents by escaping into each other— the only other person they could trust in the whole damned world.”

“But Alucard kept you around. What are you, some kind of miracle cure for wanting to end yourself?”

“No, not at all,” Elle actually laughs, though she’s started to cry, “He loved me, that’s all. He wanted to give me a good life, so he put himself back together for my sake.”

“Come on, princess. What is it you really want to ask me?”

“Do you know if souls can heal? Say, a piece of a person’s soul was kept somewhere else, outside them, but that part was strong and intact.”

“That piece would quickly grow into a soul of its own, if it were placed into a living thing. In short, an almost exact duplicate of the soul it came from.”

Trevor and I stare at each other over Elle’s head, mouths hanging open.

Elle holds herself up a little straighter, clenching her fists to contain her nervous energy, “And if the original soul was dying, damaged beyond repair by dark magic, what would happen if the second soul was rejoined to it?”

“What do you hope will happen?”

“I was made by magic, you know that, yes? I was fashioned around a piece of my tati’s soul the magic tore away. If the seal on him were released, and I had a working ready to bond us back together, would it be enough?”

Jun leans back in his chair and crosses his legs, so thoroughly astonished he seems to have forgotten where we are, “I can’t believe this. There would be no way to know for certain. It may depend on the extent of the damage. But if you could somehow generate enough power to get the spell going— which would require indescribable force, you understand— then it may be possible to fuse your souls in time to keep his lifeforce from extinguishing.”

Elle steps in close to Jun and takes his hand, “Thank you.”

With that, she flashes from the cell and I hear her clattering back up the stairs to the main floor of the castle.

“What the hell was that?” I ask, not really expecting an answer.

“Seems your little friend thinks save Alucard. And you two may want to go help her, because she looked ready to die trying.”

xxx

Adrielle

“No, that won’t work.”

“We need to enlist more mages.”

“Can we do it from here?”

“What would we actually need to pull this off?”

“Enough!”

Everyone is talking over each other, crowding around the sitting room mirror, and I just need them to shut up so I can think.

“Dracula,” I speak to the only other person not spouting every thought in their head, “can you open the way from your side of the link?”

“No, this mirror isn’t strong enough anymore. You would have to force your way through from your side,” he’s nearly whispering, trying not to disturb the stillness of that old basement kitchen.

I can smell the smoky fireplace even though the connection is too weak to show us anything but our own murky reflections.

“How do we do that?” asks aunt Violet.

“A bloody great explosion of magic, right Elle?” Greta replies.

“We can bust through the mirror at the same time we fire up the fusion spell,” Soleil exclaims, “But we would need two anchor points for the working. One circle here, one there. If they activate at the same time, we won’t have to lose even a second.”

“That’s brilliant!” Sypha exclaims, smiling so big her eyes crinkle. She’s daring to hope.

“Alright, people, assignments!” Christopher barks, “Sol, go with mum and gather everything you’ll need— loadstones, spell books, chalk, everything. And mum will know what medical equipment and supplies we might need. Greta and I will take this mirror down to the old chapel. Elle’s right, it’s a big enough space but far enough from everyone in case it all goes boom.”

“But you have to keep the link open while you transport the mirror,” Sypha reminds us.

I volunteer for that, it’s probably the only thing I’ve got the energy for right now.

Lisa pulls me against her side for a quick squeeze, “I’ll come with you. And I know just enough of magic to help draw the runes.”

“Let’s move!”

We all scatter in different directions, even uncle Trevor hobbles along after Sypha and Soleil to help carry whatever they might need. Chris and Greta cautiously lift the mirror from each side, and aunt Violet sidles around to support it from behind.

The runes on the frame flicker, and we all hold our breath to see if the connection will be lost. We don’t have another half hour to waste trying to open it again.

“Can you still hear us?” Lisa calls.

“Yes. And might I suggest keeping our voices down? Alucard flinches at every sound, even now.”

Hearing again that tati is still with us even though he’s weighed down under the sealing spell sends a thrill of hope right through me. We aren’t giving up yet! We’ll fight to the very last second.

I lock my focus on the transmission mirror and thread my magic through the spell on it. I can feel instantly that the link from our side is perfectly fine, but the other is already trying to slam shut on me.

“Elle, are we alright?” Chris asks as we make our way into the corridor.

“Fine,” I push a little of my power directly through the mirror, like a stream of water to keep a pool from freezing over, “I’m just enjoying how silly you all look.”

Lisa chortles under her hand, “It’s definitely a little ungainly.”

Greta chuffs, “Why don’t you come over here and help then?”

“Because, I’m enjoying this display far too much.”

“Adrielle,” Dracula says through the glass, “can you do that again?”

I hold out my hands and push a little more of my power through, “Like that?”

He chuckles lightly, “Alucard can feel that. He isn’t conscious, exactly, but I believe he can sense your presence.”

I resist the urge to call out, and stay narrowly focused on keeping the way open as we head for the old chapel. The hallways are bustling with people shuffling in every direction. There must be so much to do now that the city is secured.

Chris and Greta shout at them to clear a path. Most do so right away, but not without pausing a moment to stare. It seems a very long way to where we’re going, and I don’t think I inhale once on the stairs, the connection shivers ominously with every jolt.

Greta swears with relief when the chapel doors finally appear, “Get the those open, I hear Trevor and them on the stairs already.”

My heart thuds, we’re so close now.

I can only stand aside and watch as the others take over to set up the working. Sol, Chris, and Lisa handle drawing our circle and communicating to Dracula. And Trevor insists on helping Greta assemble supports to hold the mirror up in the center of the room.

Once the array is complete, Soleil begins copying runes from a scroll on to the surface and walls of the ancient altar table beneath the windows. His hands are trembling, making it hard to hold the chalk steady. Lisa arranges her medical supplies beside Sypha’s workbasket and a bucket of loadstones, humming with power.

Sypha oversees their work while reading to me from the large book on her arm, explaining what I’ll need to do. But somehow, I already know. I do my best to pay attention, but her words quickly blur together. Without her noticing, I go to take a seat on the coffin dais, resting my head on my knees.

“I can do this,” I whisper to myself, feeling like I might be sick, “I can do this. I can do this.”

It’s so cold in here I can see my breath.

Violet comes to sit beside me on the dais step, “Are you sure you don’t want one of us to take the lead? I’m sure Sypha would be more than happy to.”

“It has to be me.”

“Why? Couldn’t you just act as the— what did you call it? The core?”

“I can’t explain how I know. Soul magic is mostly just intuition, I suppose.”

She puts an arm around me and kisses my head, “You’re a brave girl, Ellie.”

I don’t feel brave, I feel frantic. My hands are shaking and I can’t stop bouncing my knee. I nearly jump out of my clammy skin when Christopher shouts that everything is ready for me.

I go over the steps one more time in my head as I make my way to the front of the circle. I’m very small in the mirror’s reflection, just a speck of dust in the vast, dim chapel.

“Ready?” Sypha asks.

“Yes.”

She directs everyone to their places. She and Trevor stand to either side of me, the boys next to them, then Greta and Violet, and Lisa stands opposite me, behind the mirror.

Everyone has a loadstone at their feet, alight with power, and there is a candle on every rune. The circle isn’t even active yet, and already the air fairly crackles with energy. I push a little magic into it, and the essences of everyone here travel up my body to collect in my chest. It so warm, and I can feel their love as plainly as if they’d spoken it aloud.

I nod to Sypha and she makes a familiar alchemical sign with her hand, and the candles light in unison. I slowly draw a long breath to steady myself, and let my magic well up from that little spring inside me.

When I ignite the working, I’m expecting pain— like tati described in his journal— but none comes. There are enough of us here to take the force of the power that it doesn’t have the opportunity to overwhelm me.

The array fills with magic, the image in the glass finally clears, and I send the full wave of it directly into the mirror. The glass shatters inward, shards scattering like hailstones at Dracula’s feet. Cold, smoky air wafts over me.

Both circles activate fully, and there is a tingling spark deep in my body. The spell wraps itself around my soul in only a moment, but then, something strange happens— I suddenly have the feeling that I am no longer alone in my own head. Or, that I exist in two bodies at once.

It’s working! I’m want to jump for joy, scream, spin in circles until I fall down, but I need to stay focused. Something else is crawling inside my skin with me.

The curse doesn’t even get the chance to fully cross this new link, the presence of the others with me creates such a firm barricade around me that the dark magic can only creep so far. But it’s far enough.

The corrupted magic whispers to me in voices I don’t recognize. They’re strangely accented, a little like Jun's voice. They push images toward me, filling my mind with the scent of the highlands.

Phantom claws pierce my throat. The voices whisper about bloodlust and the thrill of the hunt. I catch glimpses of the chase through the quarry through tati’s eyes, and feel the rush he felt when he seized me.

The other presence tells me how much he enjoyed hurting me. And it’s true. I’ve known that all along.

But it wasn’t his fault. The curse made him do and feel those horrible things. I cling to every loving word I read in his old journal, every kind thing he’s ever told me. I hold the memory of our goodbye before me like a shield, and dare the curse to come closer.

My tati is the one who said ‘you are my world,’ and told me to be brave. He wasn’t the one who hurt me on that mountain. My tati would never hurt me, and he would never have left me on purpose.

Tati is good, and strong, and brave— like a prince in a storybook.

With my magic, I grab hold of the other will, finally closing my eyes and following the ugly power like a string. All the way back to its hiding place.

Though my body hasn’t moved from my spot at the spell circle, I am somewhere deep and dark. All around me is blazing heat and murky fear, a boiling sea, just an endless void. But it can’t hurt me. The vastness won’t pull me down, because I’m not truly alone here. My family is a lifeline I can follow back to the surface, should I need to.

I swim deeper into the blackness, waiting to feel something— anything— familiar. There is a feeling like words on the tip of my tongue, a memory I can’t quite recall. I’m getting closer. He’s here, just too weak to reach out.

From the outside, there is a quick, violent flash. The sealing spell breaks and I’m engulfed in the screeching chaos of black magic. Through the rush and confusion, I push out in all directions, filling this chasm with foamy light that grows brighter and stronger every moment.

The dark retreats from me, it knows it’s beaten. The curse releases its hold, surrendering completely, and dissipating like fog faced with the morning sun.

I’m quickly swept away in a current of sweet waters, cool and clean. It’s like I’m taking my first breaths, and I gladly relinquish my oneness to be reunited with my source.

There he is. The edges of us graze and spark, like blades clashing. It takes a long moment, but the sparks catch and— just like that— the aquifer erupts. And we’re being carried back to the surface on cool, caressing waves.

“Can you hear me?” my silent voice cries out.

He’s too weak to reply, but he knows I’m here, I can feel it. I catch stray thoughts— memories of us in a meadow, surrounded by white flowers. The stillness of the library on an autumn morning. Tati’s heartbeat when I sleep on his chest. The day he gave me my name.

Pride, love, joy, and a fiery protectiveness. The night sky filled with twinkling stars. A single candle in the cavernous dark.

“Ellie?”

The world reforms jarringly around me, and my legs almost give out as I’m slammed back into my body. I don’t waste even a second, just race through the mirror, now a wide-open doorway, to that other place.

Dracula has to stop me with a huge hand over my front to keep me running over his chalk lines before the circle is closed.

“It worked, child, wait just a moment.”

I squeal in irritation. How dare he, I’ve waited long enough! Tati lies on a bed of folded soft things, just inside the array. He’s covered by cloaks and blankets, and he isn’t moving. But I don’t let that trouble me. He’s alive, he’s free, I can feel it!

Finally, I’m released, and I fall onto my tati. I press my face into his chest and completely let go.

The others are talking nearby, asking if we did it, and if I’m ok. I can’t really hear them over my crying. A gentle hand strokes my back, Lisa’s soft voice is saying loving things to tati. She brushes the backs of her fingers over his pale face, and moves the hair out of his eyes.

She’s trying to pull me into her arms, but I won’t allow it, clinging tighter to him.

“Come on, dear, it’s time to take him home.”

I grumble and hide my face in his blankets. I don’t want to let go, I want to stay right here until he wakes up.

“It’s alright, no one is going to take him away. You can stay right next to him, I promise.”

Reluctantly, I let Lisa pick me up. Dracula cradles tati close and drifts weightlessly back through the mirror to the old chapel. We follow behind, and Lisa has a hard time keeping hold of me for the few steps back to the castle.

Sypha and Sol have already closed the spell on this side, and everything is very quiet again. No magic rushing in the air, no running here and there making preparations— just quiet words of love and disbelief.

Lisa sets me on my feet, and I hiss as someone else sweeps me right back up. It’s Greta, she’s grinning and crying, and she squeezes me so hard it hurts. I let her, but only for a bit while Sypha directs Dracula to lay tati on the altar.

“You’d better let her go before she bites you,” says Chris, he’s crying too.

xxx

Lisa

Elle insist on being under-foot while Sypha and I work. She flattens herself to the side of the stone table and refuses to be moved.

I insert the hollow needle into Alucard’s weakened vein, and Vlad’s blood begins its slow drip down the length of tubing.

“Flex your fingers,” I instruct Vlad, and demonstrate clenching motions. He curls his fingers over his upturned palm, making his blood pump a little faster.

Elle clearly does not care for my method of delivering it intravenously, because she wrinkles her nose at the dried animal guts. She rests her chin on the table, to keep herself upright as much as to closely watch her father’s face for signs of life. Vlad’s blood must make him smell strange, because she keeps sniffing Alucard and spluttering irritably.

Eventually, I get tired of nearly tripping over her every time I turn around, and herd her away against the wall, where she can watch what’s happening without getting in the way. She whines a little, but stays where I put her, wringing her tiny hands.

It takes a long time to get Alucard anywhere near stable again. His heartrate keeps trying to drop away to nothing, and he’s so diminished that none of our interventions have much effect until his father’s powerful blood can do its work.

It takes hours, and Elle doesn’t close her eyes for even a minute, even as the others slowly depart. Only Vlad, Sypha, and I are left in the chapel, the only sounds are murmured instructions and questions between us while we work.

At last, we’re able to move Alucard upstairs to his own bedchamber. Our watch is far from over, but at least here we can all be a bit more comfortable.

Elle hovers uneasily around the end of the bed, pacing and whining like an anxious pet dog. No matter how many times I try to tell her all is well, she isn’t able to accept it— not until she’s allowed to touch him again.

As soon as I let her know she can sit beside him, she climbs onto the other side of the bed and curls herself into a ball, only reaching out to take her father’s hand. The darling creature must be afraid of hurting him.

“How long do you think he’ll sleep for?” Sypha whispers.

“Who can say. A vampire can easily sleep for a week straight, if they feel like it.”

“It will be a long recovery.”

“Yes, but he’ll live,” I can’t finish my thought because I’m suddenly overcome with the relief.

Sypha hugs me around the waist and leans her forehead on my shoulder, “It feels like a miracle, doesn’t it?”

I take in little Elle lying fast asleep beside Alucard, breathing evenly, “It does. A true miracle.”

xxx

Elle doesn’t wake up for more than a day. I’m checking Alucard’s pulse when she shoots upright, gasping and looking around for danger.

“It’s alright, you’re safe, it’s only me.”

It’s dark in the room, save for the candle beside the bed, and she examines Alucard by its dancing light.

“There’s been no change, good or bad. He just needs to rest.”

She makes an unhappy noise, like she doesn’t trust that something won’t still go horribly wrong. But she lets me tuck her back in beside him, and she’s asleep again in seconds.

xxx

Soleil

Mum and dad are looking pleased and proud when I come into the sitting room.

“You wanted to see me.”

They look between me and Lisa, smiling slyly.

“We’ll just give you some space,” dad says, and leads mum by the hand from the room.

I stare at Lady Lisa as the door closes behind me, “What’s going on?”

She leans back in her chair and crosses her legs, “Come sit.”

I do, getting more nervous all the time, “Should I be worried? Has something happened?”

“No, dear. Your parents tell me you’ll need to find an apprenticeship soon, to complete your education. Is that right?”

I blink stupidly, “I guess so. You know, before everything, I was so worried about it. But I don’t think I’ve given it a single thought in months,” I say through a grimace.

“And is it true you want to study medicine?”

I blush and nod.

“Excellent. Then, if you’re up for it, we’ll begin after things have quieted down here. It’s been a few years since I’ve trained anyone, but I’m more than up to the task of teaching you. And my surgery back home has been equipped with the very best materials modern medical science can offer.”

I spew out a few incoherent words of surprise, not at all sure what I’m supposed to say. Lisa just laughs and pats my hand.

“Thank you! That’s… I mean, that’s more than I ever could have hoped for.”

“It’s my pleasure. Why don’t you go and tell your family? I’m sure they’d love to get some good news.”

I’m on my feet and bounding to the door instantly, so giddy with excitement I feel I might explode.

“Oh, I suppose I should ask— where do you live now?”

“Scotland.”

xxx

Christopher

“It’s good to see you out of that room.”

Elle is milling around the courtyard garden, looking a bit lost. Like she’s just killing time until she’s allowed to go back inside to Alucard.

“Did my mum kick you out, or are you just enjoying the fresh air?”

“The sun came back,” she murmurs vacantly, tipping her head back.

“It sure did. Still bloody freezing though. Can’t believe we missed the whole summer.”

“Jun is removing the bad magic?”

“The mages officially put him to work a couple of days ago. Going to take a while, but it’s nice to breathe clean air again, huh?”

She still looks so exhausted, her eyes are unfocused and glassy.

“Listen, what you did in the chapel… it was—”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“Don’t say anything about it. Not until we know it worked.”

I sigh and pat her hair, “It worked, kid. He’s just sleeping, you heard your grandmother explain it to us, twice.”

She makes that uneasy noise again, she’s been doing that a lot these last few days.

“Be patient,” she glares up at me and I hurry to correct course, “I know you’re worried. We all are. But we only have to wait a little longer.”

She regards me blankly, head tilted, “I think I liked you better when you were a mess. You sound too grown up.”

xxx

Dracula

“One more day, and I’m going to insist you put him in his coffin.”

“It won’t come to that. It hasn’t even been a full week yet.”

“Has there been any change at all?”

“Only slightly. He reacted a little to the light in the room, and his vital signs are holding steady. How are things in Whitby?”

“Cold and dark, as usual— especially without you.”

She laughs, pressing her fingertips against her mirror, “It’s a shame they made you leave so soon.”

“No, the Speaker woman was right— it’s better I didn’t lurk around there much longer.”

“I promise I’ll come visit you when I get home. But I’ll have to settle in first, I’m bringing someone with me.”

“Please, don’t tell me your bringing a Belmont here.”

“I’m afraid so. Young Soleil is going to be my new student.”

I sigh, rolling my eyes for effect, “Yes, dear.”

xxx

Adrielle

“It’s very mean of you to keep me waiting this long.”

No response.

“Please, wake up.”

I squeeze his hand, but he doesn’t squeeze back.

“Fine. Be like that,” I climb off the bed and stomp to the bedchamber door, “I’m not coming back until you wake up.”

I yank the door open, but pause before I go, “That’s not true, I’ll come back in a minute. I’m just hungry.”

xxx

Lisa

I’m arranging my medical supplies on the little table when I hear a pained gasp behind me. I’m at my son’s side in an instant, smoothing back his hair and speaking softly.

Vlad warned me Alucard would experience discomfort upon first waking. His senses have been dulled for so long, it’s overwhelming to feel everything fully again, even in a dark and quiet room.

His bleary, unfocused eyes try to find me in the low light, and I gingerly sit against his arm to lean in closer.

“I’m here, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

“Mother?” it comes out more a puff of breath than a word.

“Yes, sweetheart, it’s me. What do you need?”

He swallows hard, “Where is she?”

“Asleep downstairs, on the sofa. She came down to dinner and simply dropped off right at the table. Don’t you worry, she’ll come back up when she wakes. She’s barely left your side for days.”

He just blinks up at me as I soothe him back to sleep. But I don’t move from the bed, even after he’s breathing deep again.

Since he came home, I’ve only touched him as a physician, firm and detached. Now, I can just be his mother again. And an hour or two sitting here, just holding my boy’s hand, sounds like exactly what I need now.

xxx