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I raced through the corridors of the castle, a rage burning so intensely I felt as if it would consume me. My long red hair trailed behind me, my skirts flaring out around legs. I ran blindly, crashing through doors, toppling furniture, and leaping down stairs.

Beyond the castle walls, the howling of the wolves pierced the night and joined my screams of fury.

Slamming through a doorway, I found myself in the cavernous kitchens of the castle. Several gypsies sat at a table eating their supper. One of the women screamed when she saw me. That old shrew Ilona rose hesitantly to her feet.

“What do you want here?” Her voice quivered.

At the time, I did not realize how frightening my appearance was to the servants with my long nails, fierce eyes, and wild expression. I was also oblivious to the fact that my long teeth were visible behind my red lips. I had yet to comprehend how truly frightening my visage can be.

“I am hungry,” I responded truthfully. I was hungry. Famished.

One of the gypsy men ran out of the room in fright. My eyes followed him. I was tempted to follow, but I was uncertain as to why. This was the kitchen. Food was here. I returned my gaze to Ilona.

“The Master…the Master…” Ilona took a deep breath. “Did the Master send you to us?”

I moved toward her, watching her every movement, fascinated by the sight of her chest rising and falling so swiftly. “No, he did not. ”

“Then, perhaps, you should leave,” Ilona suggested.

“No. ” I stared at the swarthy faces of the frightened gypsies. I was so hungry that the hollowness within me was calling out to be filled. With one taloned hand, I reached out, plucking a wine goblet from the table.

One of the gypsy women crossed herself as one of the men grabbed a heavy knife from the table.

I lifted the goblet to my lips and drank in the wine with large gulps. The red liquid spilled down my chin, staining my white gown. With trembling fingers, I began to tear at the roasted meat set on the table. Shoving great pieces of meat into my mouth, I ate ravenously. Shredding a loaf of bread, I gazed at Ilona. Staring at

her only made me hungrier.

“Call the Master,” Ilona whispered to a young man beside her.

Stuffing chunks of bread into my mouth, I grabbed up a bottle from the table. Desperately hungry, I moved down the table swallowing down morsels of food and gulping down the wine.

The firelight caught in the dark eyes of the gypsies anxiously watching me. I was mesmerized by them and reached out to one of the women. The girl shrieked, falling back against the wall.

“I am so hungry,” I whispered. “Is there more food?”

“It is not food you desire,” Ilona responded in a soft voice.

Sluggishly, her words registered in my mind. With a growing sense of horror, I realized her words were true. My eyes widened as crumbs of food fell from my slack mouth. The bottle of wine crashed to the floor, shattering into tiny shards.

“What are you doing?” Cneajna hurled herself into the room and caught me up. “You cannot eat these things!”

I staggered backwards. “I am hungry. ”

“Not for these things! Did you drink the wine?”

“Yes. ”

“Good, then your body will be able to accept what you have forced into it. Consuming food will weaken you. Thankfully, you are newly made. ” Cneajna grabbed hold of me, pulling me from the table. “If Vlad knew what you have done-“

“I do know. ” He stormed across the stone floor, lifting his hand high above his head.

I was so stunned to see him I did not react until he dealt me a powerful blow with the back of his hand.

“I give you the dark gift and you do this?” Grabbing hold of my long hair, he wrenched my head upwards.

“Mercy on her, Master! Mercy! She does not understand,” Cneajna exclaimed.

“Do not defy me, Cneajna!” He bared his long fangs at her, his eyes glowing with anger. Returning his gaze to me, he said, “Do not defile your body with this mortal food again. You are a vampire!”