(part three) by Faye Locke

           Lucard sat in his library, glaring at a large, leather-bound volume that lay on the table in front of him. This book belonged to Serina Savore, a guest to his house for over three years. She had the singular honor of being the only human guest to ever remain human for longer than a week for over a century. This in itself was annoying, but the book was far more irritating. The first time Lucard had seen her with it, she had warned him not to touch it. He asked her what it was. She just repeated that he was not to touch it. So, of course, the first opportunity Lucard had to get to the book alone, he had picked it up. And dropped it instantly. Three years ago, and he could still vividly recall the pain that had shot through him when he was in contact with the book. Worse than holy water. Worse than anything he knew. A fire that threatened to burn his immortal body beyond repair had he not immediately dropped it. But pain was not the only thing the mysterious book dealt to unwelcome would-be perusers.
           Once, in the first few months of her stay, he was sitting in the library, staring at that book, a zombie servant had come in and unobtrusively begun to clean the room. Lucard watched the zombie reached to pick up the book, intent on putting it away. The moment the zombie's flesh touched the book, the zombie had simply disintregated. Lucard had spent many long moments not moving, stunned by the power of the book. If it could destroy zombies and immobilize him with just a mere touch, what power might it hold within its pages? Such power would be beyond measure, but only if he could find a way to handle it.
           Serina often left the volume lying out in various places, leaving him ample opportunities to experiment. He found that the book would only kill zombies. Young vampires, even new ones, were only stunned, though the younger the vampire, the longer the time they remained comatose. One newly-made vampire was still comatose after two years. Lucard had finally decided to leave the book alone and concentrate on Serina.
           He still had the intention of making her a vampire, he had just not made any progress toward that goal. Lucard recalled what had happened the last time he had tried to change her, two and a half years ago. He had waited until she had fallen asleep, then entered her room with preternatural stealth. Serina had showed no signs of waking as he leaned over her, preparing to bite her. He had been so sure that he could change her if he could take her before she realized what had happened. But the moment his lips touched her neck, he felt a sudden, searing pain in his chest. Thinking she had impaled him with stake, he had looked down to find it was only her hand against him that was causing so much pain. Serina had given him a rough shove, which somehow managed to throw him to the floor. He had lain there for some time gasping in pain.
           Serina had climbed out of bed, and knelt beside him, careful not to touch him. "What you experienced, vampire," she had said coldly, "was a bit a life. I healed your undead heart—but only for a few seconds. Next time, I won't stop." Lucard was so furious he could not speak. He wanted dearly to reach out and rip her little heart out, but he stopped himself. She had too much power to waste in a moment of anger. So instead, once he was able to move, he hunted and killed three innocents that night.

           Lucard shook his head, remembering the incident with distaste. He rarely killed recently due to increased surveillance by the local police. Even with Helsing dead, there were many would-be vampire hunters that were waiting for him to foul up so that they might bring the full force of the law down on him. And there were the ever-present power-hungry vampires also waiting for him to make a mistake. He simply could not afford to be careless anymore. Nor could he allow Serina's power to remain untapped much longer.
           He had tried to force her to drain her power. First, he had had her food poisoned. Not with anything deadly, but strong enough to make her very ill. Yet Serina had never shown any sign of feeling the effects of the poison. Annoyed, he had tried a stronger poison, but, again, there was no effect.
           Lucard decided to try another approach. He had hired a few roughs from the city to beat her within an inch of her life. Content that this plan would work, he had allowed them into his estate, bringing them to the garden area she was fond of. Lucard had then taken himself back to the castle, knowing that she would sense something was wrong if he was in the garden. After he had waited a few hours, Lucard grew uneasy, knowing that the hired men should have finished their job and he should have seen them leave by now. Returning to the garden, he had found all three of the hired men dead. From the looks on their faces, he guessed it had not been an easy death.
           Serina had not said anything to him about the incident. However, after his next hire, an accomplished assassin, she had decided to retaliate. The assassin Lucard had found sprawled across his dining room table. Lucard had immediately searched Serina out to see if she was vulnerable. But Serina was not in the castle. He had searched until dawn, but he had known the truth long before that. She had left him.
           A few weeks later, he had been conducting business late one night in his castle. He had just changed a beautiful young lawyer into a vampire, and he was enjoying her company immensely when he realized they were no longer alone.
           "So good to see you can still indulge in human pleasures," Serina had said coldly, walking closer. Lucard jumped to his feet, straightening his clothes.
           "Where have you been?" he demanded. Serina did not answer, but moved closer to the new vampiress, who still lay on the couch. The woman was watching her hungrily.
           "I've been thinking," Serina said. She placed her hand on the lawyer's shoulder. The vampire convulsed and screamed, then dissipated into dust. Serina looked back at him, her eyes hard with anger. "I have been thinking that if you try once more to harm me, in any manner, I will kill you." She looked meaningfully at the dust pile. "Am I clear?"
           Lucard had not answered for many long moments. He was furious at Serina for interrupting him, and livid that she had killed his latest pet in such a callous manner. He had had plans for the lawyer, and now they were dust, just as she was. There was another feeling Lucard had felt that night: fear. He knew that Serina did indeed have the power to kill him. He should have killed her that night, but the lure of controlling her power was too great for him to resist.
           "You are understood. There will be no more attempts." When he spoke these words, Serina had smiled, then left him alone with the dust pile. Neither had spoken of the incident again. But Lucard still had not given up hope that he might come across something that would change matters to his favor.

           Serina cuddled in a plush chair, holding her precious lesson book close. Since she had arrived, she had been endlessly studying and practicing its teachings. She finally felt that her power was trained enough to leave the relative protection of Lucard and seek a little adventure. Knowing that Lucard was anxious to control her powers, Serina had been trying to stave him off by performing little niceties for him over the past two years. Not that she did her demonstrations solely for his benefit—it gave her a chance to practice. She had learned to turn her healing around, and had aided Lucard immensely in her practices. For instance, a wealthy owner of a growing business Lucard sought to control had been completely admant about not selling or sharing his "baby." Serina had showed up at one of the meetings, then calmly stopped the old man's heart—much to Lucard's dismay. He had lectured her for some time about how stupid she had been to kill the man so blatantly. But, it had worked out for Lucard. The old man's successor had been all too happy to sell to Lucard.
           The next time, she had been far more subtle. One of Lucard's underlings had been growing too ambitious. Lucard did not want to let the man out of his sight, because he knew too many dark secrets about the Lucard Industries. Nor could Lucard simply kill the ambitious man—that would have drawn too much attention. Serina had stepped in, solving the problem neatly. In a short meeting, she had turned the man's body against himself by promoting the growth of a tiny tumor. The tumor had turned into terminal cancer in a matter of months, neatly removing the man from Lucard's worries.
           But this had not been enough. Lucard had been removed from her for the past few weeks, and Serina had a feeling that he was planning something again. She had been careful not to expend too much of her power, and had been discreetly arranging for a swift departure. Even if the vampire did nothing, Serina still wanted to leave. Two more months, she told herself, then I will be rid of the place forever. And perhaps, just perhaps, she might not kill Lucard before she did depart.
           She closed the book quietly, thinking about her plans after she left. Looking down in her lap at the book, she realized that a piece of paper was sticking out of the book. Carefully, she pulled the folded paper out, wondering why she had never come across it during her readings of the book. Unfolding it slowly, Serina read the note three times before willing it to dust. The words burned in her mind, an afterimage of her training she had not wanted to deal with.
           Remember your task.
           Serina sighed heavily. Part of her training, just before she left, had been ingraining the importance of destroying the empire of Alexander Lucard. Her teachers had duly informed her that he was growing too powerful to be allowed to continue. When she had first arrived, she had decided to wait, in order to practice her work. The relative protection and extra benefits, such as getting to practice on errant business associates, had been too much for her to pass up. Now that she was leaving, Serina knew that she needed to finished her assigned task, lest she bring upon the wrath of full-fledged faerie. The problem lay in the fact the Serina could not really bring herself to kill Lucard. Of course he was unscrupulous and cruel, perhaps even evil, but she had found him useful, and she not did think she could kill him unless he provoked her again by hiring another assassin or poisoning her food. He had behaved very nicely since she had killed the vampiress.
           No, it was not her morals that deterred her, but his looks. Why did he have to be so handsome? Serina felt it would be a crime to destroy such a handsome face. I'm being silly, she told herself. No real reason not to kill him, I just don't want to waste that much power on him. Yet, she knew she was still deceiving herself. It was not the morals, the looks, or the power usage. It was something she could not—would not—put a name too. Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Serina decided it was time to stop thinking and to get some sleep.

           An odd noise distracted Lucard from his paperwork. Scowling at the fine print before him, Lucard set the pen down and listened carefully. Something was not right about that noise. Vaguely familiar. What was it?
           After many long minutes of straining his hearing, Lucard decided he must have imagined it. Still, he thought, rising from his desk, it won't hurt to have a look around. A walk around the castle will be nice after countless hours of this tedious work. He did not usually use his office in his castle, but lately, home and work had become blurred. Such was the life of one of the world's most powerful businessmen.
           Whumpf
           Lucard was suddenly tense, knowing his senses had not betrayed him this time. Something was amiss in the castle. Someone, he decided grimly, realizing he had lost contact with one of his undead servants. Someone is going to pay dearly for daring to kill my people. He left his office swiftly, wondering who would dare such an act.

           Serina jerked awake, shaking off sleep in moments. Something had died. Something in the castle. She blinked a few times, trying to think. Who would dare kill in Lucard's home? she wondered as she realized it had been one of the lesser vampires who had been killed.
           She rose from the bed quickly, and grabbed at some clothes and dressed. She started to leave, then felt that inner voice tugging at her.
           The cross.
           Knowing better than to ignore it, she hastily retrieved the cross and slipped it over her head. Walking along the corridors, Serina followed the "trail" the death had made. Whenever anything died, it sent out psychic shockwaves.. Usually the waves disappeared within an hour or so of the death. Until then, Serina could track the point of death simply by moving against the flow of the waves. As she drew closer to the source of the waves, she began to hear voices. Another minute, and she was able to distinguish words.
           "Lucard!" a male voice rang out, "This time you will not survive!"
           "Maximilian," Lucard responded calmly, "so nice to see you again."
           Serina realized they were in the great hall, and ran to the room as fast as she could.

           Lucard had been shocked to see Maximilian Townsend after all the years of silence from the young vampire hunter. Lucard had assumed that the boy had either given up on vampire hunting, or perhaps had perished on another vampire hunt. He had not been expected the boy—now a young man—to return alone and challenge the vampire that had killed his hero, Gustav Helsing. Of course, the Helsing clan had always had a strange sense of vengeance.
           Max had grown handsome in the past years, fulfilling the promise Lucard had seen long ago. The cross he held in his hand was merely blessed, not one of the more powerful artifacts. In his other hand, he held the traditional wooden stake.
           "Surely you have discovered a better way to kill me than that pathetic thing," Lucard said, indicating the stake.
           "It worked just fine for that pretty little vampire," Max responded, smiling with satisfaction. Anger came back to Lucard in a quick rush.
           "You killed Milene?" Lucard demanded, his fury rising. He knew Milene was dead. He should have known before, had he taken the time to see which of his servants had been disposed of. He had just finished grooming Milene for her assignment in a rival company. Her death would set him back months.
           "Oh, was that her name?" Max said non-chalantly. He took another step toward Lucard, only to pause when he heard a muffled grunt.
           Max shot a desperate look at the heavy velvet drapes covering the windows. Lucard spared a glance the same way, then realized a moment later that a crossbow bolt was imbedded in his chest. He barely recognized the body falling from behind the drapes as Christopher Townsend before he collapsed.

           Serina entered the room and descended halfway down the staircase before realizing the imminent danger to Lucard. Acting without thinking, she lashed out with her power and stopped the heart of the man hiding behind the drapes, but not in time to stop his finger from pulling the trigger on the crossbow. She watched Lucard go down without a sound, then turned her gaze to the other man in the room. Looking closer at him, she realized he was barely out of his teens. His astonished face did little to age his looks as he stared at his fallen companion.
           "Chris!" Max cried out, taking a half-step toward the fallen man. His face was a mixture of agony and hate as he turned toward Serina. The stake slipped out of numbed fingers. He lowered the cross. "You must be the witch we have heard about." Serina gave him a slight nod. A gun appeared in his hand, and, before she had a chance to react, he aimed and shot.
           Searing pain tore through Serina's chest. She fell down the stairs to the landing. "You little brat!" Her voice failed her, and what was intended to be a scream came out little more than a hoarse whisper. Anger consumed her and she reached for her power again, seeking the boy's life for daring to shoot her. But, for the first time in her memory, her power failed her. There was only enough to turn his body slightly against his will. Max fell stiffly to the ground as his muscles stopped obeying him. The gun fell out of numb fingers. The effect only lasted for a few moments, but it was enough to convince Max that now was the time to leave. Lucard was finished, and the witch was going to die soon enough. He gave Chris's body one more haunted look before quickly departing.

           Lucard awoke in a fog of pain. Taking a few moments to regain his bearings, he remembered the crossbow bolt that had struck him. Opening his eyes, he realized it was still there. It had come in at an angle, and was buried deep in his chest. More than a bit of luck had kept the tip out of his heart. He remembered seeing the body of his assailant, Christopher, falling down. Only one person had the power to strike and kill in such a way. Lucard just wondered where she was now, and why wasn't she helping him get this thing out of his body? Clasping both hands on the wood, he wrenched the thing out, letting out a cry of pain as it ripped free. Lucidity failed him for a short time. When he came to again, he gazed at the bloodied wood clenched tightly in his hands. The wood had barbs evenly spaced throughout its length. He dimly realized that some of the barbs were missing near the tip. Well, guess I will be making a call to Varney. Rolling to his side, he looked at the window. No smell of decay came from the body yet, telling Lucard that he had not been out for too long. The smell of blood other than his own drew his attention to the staircase.
           A crumbled body with raven-black hair spilled around it lay on the landing. Slowly he crawled toward Serina, not believing that she was dead. Lucard managed to pull her limp form into his lab before darkness claimed his vision once more. He wasn't sure how long he was out, but she was still in his lab when he came to.
           Her heart still beat, though very faintly. The gunshot wound to her chest had also narrowly missed her heart. But the blood seeping from her mouth and nose told him that she would not live much longer. Despite his pain, he felt the compulsion to laugh. His greatest enemy had delivered to him the chance he had been seeking. Finally, he would be able to bring Serina under his control as a vampire. He noticed a thin silver chain around her neck. He had seen that chain before; it's pendant was a small silver cross. But by trick of fate, the cross had been twisted behind her neck and tangled in her hair. Lucard felt dizzy with luck, knowing just one different circumstance could have ruined his chance to take Serina. Leaning down, he kissed her gently, drinking at the blood that filled her mouth. His lips traced a bloody trail down her jaw to the point in her neck where the artery beat ever so faintly close to her skin. Fangs emerged and hunger consumed him. Surrendering to the hunger, he bit down fiercely into her neck and drank deeply. Ecstasy overwhelmed his senses, and he embraced the darkness it offered. Somewhere deep in his consciousness, he heard her voice.
           You will never own me, Lucard. My parting gift to you. The next hundred years are mine.

           Lucard awoke ravenously hungry. He looked at the body cradled in his arms, and was disgusted by the aroma of death that radiated from it. Serina had somehow managed to escape him, willing herself to death rather than surrendering to his power. But, that was a distant annoyance to him. His hunger was far more consuming. He had to feed.

           Hours later, Lucard reclined on a leather couch, his hunger sated for the moment. The castle was silent, every living creature killed by him as he sought to appease his appetite. He dimly recalled the pain in his chest, and remembered that he needed to call Varney, in order to get those barbs removed. But even that seemed unimportant. He dwelled on the taste of fresh blood, the fear of his victims.
           Clarity came back to his mind painfully when a familiar presence sang to his ears. Lucard bolt upright, staring at the form of Serina.
           "You are dead!"
           "How astute of you to notice." Her movements were too smooth as she moved around the room. "I see you have not yet realized what has been done?"
           "What do you mean?" Lucard began to recall the deaths of his household, and the unaccounted for hunger that had consumed him. How could he have lost his control so completely? He had had complete control for over a hundred years. If his control was lost, then... realization struck him harder than the crossbow bolt ever could have.
           "What have you done to me?" he demanded.
           "Oh, just a little something to remember me by." She smiled evilly. "I wish I could be around to see how well you control your little empire when you can't control you appetite in then presence of mortals. Why, I imagine it will be—oh—a hundred years before you can stand in the same room with a human and not succumb to your hunger." She smiled gleefully. Her form was becoming transparent. "Have a nice life." Then she was gone.

           Lucard sat still for many, many long hours. He might have even remained unmoving for days, so complete was his shock. My entire empire, my power, all gone, on the whim of that girl! Anger consumed him, bringing his hunger to rise. He would not even have time to arrange his affairs. What little time he had left before he was discovered had to be used getting as far away from his beloved civilization as possible. The only chance he had to survive the next hundred years was to insinuate himself into the most primitive and isolated culture that existed.
           Grimly, he finally moved and made arrangements to travel to the rainforests of the Amazon. I will return, he vowed, and next time, nothing will stop me. I have a hundred years to make my plans infallible. But a distant female voice teased him.
           And a hundred years to suffer, to hide, to fear. A hundred years of never knowing if the enemy will find you while you sleep. Have a nice life, Dracula, and a nice death, too.

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