1. Chapter 1 (1/2)

because i can't just let these characters be happy, can i? enjoy.disclaimer: nothing but the poor attempt at a plot is mine.

it was a sign of how well vlad had progressed with his training that nobody questioned his orders as he strode into the throne room of garside grange that sunset."ingrid, take wolfie and go and play in the blood cellar. dad, give her the keys and stay here. bertrand, i want you outside the cellar door and renfield... go with ingrid and

ing back a bottle of duchess. any duchess." well, alright, there were a few curious looks cast his way, but wolfie gathered up his teddy and allowed ingrid to shepherd him out of the room, followed by renfield and a determined-looking bertrand.

"what's the occasion, vladdy?" his father, of course, could always be relied on to buck the trend. "finally indulging your true vampiric side?"he scowled. "no. it just seems the done thing to offer mum a drink. she'll be arriving any minute." the count leapt to his feet, smoothing his hair before draping himself back across his throne in what he obviously hoped was a casually elegant pose."what's that harpy doing here? did you invite her?""no, and i've got no idea, but since patrick is standing outside the gates waiting for someone, i expect she'll be arriving the moment darkness falls." like a flash, his father was at the window, peering curiously down at his ex's partner."hmm, is that him? i thought he'd be taller. and hairier." the sun sank behind the horizon as he spoke and within minutes, magda was landing neatly at the werewolf's side and the pair were making their way forward.

renfield returned with the blood and was immediately dispatched to show their guests up. when they arrived, the count attempted to look surprised, but vlad was in no mood to play games."mum, patrick. can't say it's a pleasant surprise. what do you want?"magda batted her eyelashes, smiling sweetly. "so business-like, my darling boy. we just came to see how you were. more specifically, we came to collect wolfie."

vlad saw the count stiffen out of the corner of his eye. he raised an eye

ow."finally remembered you've got a kid, did you?""now, vlad, darling. is that any way to speak to your mother? come, let's all have a nice chat."the chosen one didn't take his eyes off his mother as she took a seat and continued to smile at him. he didn't trust her. still, if they talked perhaps he could work out what she wanted with wolfie."you're not taking the little mongrel," the count declared, "he's in charge of guarding our blood in exchange for bed and board. we've had him for months, we're not even yet."magda took this in her stride. "well, if you've grown fond of the boy i'm sure we can negotiate."

while the count was protesting that he had no interest in the

at, patrick turned to vlad, looking a little sheepish."d'you mind if i use your loo?" vlad waved a hand dismissively, still watching his parents argue."yeah, sure, go ahead. downstairs, on your-" patrick was gone before he could finish the sentence, clearly in a hurry, and vlad wondered just how suddenly his mother had dragged him along on this little adventure.

"i've only kept him this long because he keeps ingrid out of my hair." they all ignored the sound of barking downstairs as magda snapped out a response, and then vlad heard a chillingly firm voice inside his head.stay exactly where you are, or you may be in danger.

outside the blood cellar, bertrand was growing restless. he could tell, by the scents on the air, that ingrid had opened a bottle for herself, and he was suddenly aware of his own hunger. there was a bark from inside and he realised it was the night of the full moon. how careless of him to have forgotten that. suddenly, there was a scratching at the cellar door as the one at the end of the corridor swung open. he expected to see renfield, perhaps, or vlad – maybe even the count, coming to check that ingrid hadn't done exactly what she was doing. he hadn't expected to see a huge wolf framed in the candlelight.

stay exactly where you are, or you may be in danger, he told vlad. the chosen one would be safer upstairs than if he ventured down to investigate this beast. he cast an analytical eye over the creature and determined that it was not a true wolf, but a werewolf. and it was coming towards him, gathering speed. he didn't have his sword to hand; only the parade stick he sometimes carried. it would have to do. the wolf launched itself at his chest, forcing him to stumble backwards, and then hurled itself at the cellar door. he wasn't going to let it pass. he raised the stick and struck; the beast turned on him as inside the cellar, wolfie began to bark again.

ingrid patted her little

other's head as he began barking at the door. she wasn't sure what had just hit it, but it didn't do it again, so she focused on soothing wolfie. fortunately, he soon tired of barking and curled up with his teddy, tail thumping against the stone floor. she took another sip of the baron she'd cracked open; this was the life.

now wolfie was quieter, though, she could hear the sounds of a scuffle outside. was bertrand training vlad out there or something? if so, why had he sent them away? she shrugged and took another sip. there was nothing she could do about it for now; renfield, like the idiot he was, had taken the keys with him when he left. oh dear, such a shame – locked in a room with all this delicious blood and nobody to stop her drinking it.