The nickering of steeds and the barking of bloodhounds made Dracula turn around. He also smelled the human scent of...the girl's mother. He became mist automatically. Looking down, he saw several men and a woman on horseback, flanked with fierce bloodhounds. He sipped the pain and grief in the woman's soul-it was exquisite as a glass of 90-year old Spanish wine. It would go down so well with her blood.

"Sweet God! We finally found her!"

cried the men as they dismounted. The woman-presumably her mother held her tightly. She resembled an older version of Cassandra, save that her eyes were brown. Her wavy hair was waist-length.

"Someone must be watching over her."

Her mother whispered.

Everyone made the sign of the cross.

"We better get back."

With that, all left. Dracula decided against following. He had no intention of being riddled with stakes and drenched with holy water. It wouldn't kill him but it would hurt him-and who needed that? Curiosity-and hunger won in the end however. And he decided to follow after all.


Cassandra awoke back in a bed. She was back in the summerhouse. Cornelius was staring straight at her, grinning through blood-shot eyes-from crying-.


She screamed, rolling off the bed, gasping for air.

"You're alive!"

chirped Corn.

"You won't be when I get my hands on you..."

she growled, breathing hard.

"How did you live?"

"Survive you mean. An angel saved me. Funny though. He wore black."

"I thought angels wear white. Maybe it was the Angel Of Death."

"If it was, he would have taken my soul."

"Maybe it was the Devil!"

"Don't be stupid. Maybe, it wasn't my time to die..."

Both were silent at their revelations.


Outside, Dracula, who had followed listening to the child's heartbeat, listened to the conversation.

He smiled with amusement at their assumptions of him. Angel indeed...

The boy was not very far in his guess of which he was: He was Satan's SON actually. And the girl was right. It wasn't her time to die yet. Suddenly, a woman –a maid- burst into the room, boxed the boy's ears, telling him the young mistress needed to rest. As the door closed, he entered silently. She was tucking herself in when she saw him.

"You came back."

She whispered adoration in her tone. He nodded.

"Are you the Angel Of Death?"

She asked, catching him off guard.

"That I am,"

He lied.

"Who will die tonight then?"

"Why do you ask this?"

"Why else would you be here?"

"Smart Girl,"

He thought.

"Pray, not my parents too!"

She blurted.

He ran an elegant hand through her hair. So innocent...then again, weren't we all?

"Be calm. They shall not die tonight. Not yet at least."

She smiled.

"Thank God."

With that, she removed a earring-a hoop earring not unlike his- from her right ear and gave it to him.

"What is this?"

"To thank you for saving me...and besides, you do look a little odd with only one earring sir."

He held back a smile. Kissing her smooth forehead, he said,

"I thank thee. Now sleep."

And she did.


The next morning, the entire house was in an uproar. Six servants-including the stableboy were dead. They were DRAINED OF BLOOD. All save Cassandra was upset. The Angel Of Death had come. And it was their time to die. And who was she to question him?


Back at Castle Dracula, Dracula rested in his casket, a bloody smile on his face.

He had feasted on the blood of seven men last night. He had never feasted this well was probably years since he ate that well.

And the earring...

Clutched in his palm, he held it close to his hollow, dead heart.

She GAVE it to him. This innocent child who reminded him so much of sweet, dear-and dead-Cordelia had given him a gift-and called him an angel. How deliciously ironic...

10 years from now, he would see her again-and he would wrap her in his dark embrace, both would drink from each other...and after a brief moment of pain, they would be together for eternity-

Death Never Do Them Part.