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“He does not always return when he says! He has starved us before! Why did you not ask him to release us to roam the valley below?” Elina’s voice was ripe with fury.

“He did not want Glynis to be away from the castle, therefore, none of us could leave. ”

All three looked at me, and I stepped back. “I do not understand any of this. ”

“Usually, he releases us as far as the valley so we can hunt for ourselves. But because you are his new prize, he did not free us this time. And we will starve. ” Elina folded her arms over her breasts, frowning deeply.

“He will return. He promised me. ” Cneajna lifted her head haughtily. “I am the First and he would not lie to me. ”

“He has before and he will again. We are going to starve. ” Elina brushed past the blonde vampire and disappeared into the darkness of the castle.

Cneajna looked down at Ariana, who was grunting and sobbing at her feet, then up at me. “He promised me. He will return. ”

I began to laugh at her blind devotion. I could not believe this miserable world. Scant minutes before I had been exhilarated at the thought of being free from the dark moods of Vlad, but now I yearned for his return. I was terrified of the hunger slowly blossoming within me.

“He will return,” Cneajna insisted, but her own doubt was creeping into her melodic voice.

Ariana mumbled to herself as she crawled across the floor. She reached out to Cneajna and grabbed hold of her skirts. “Mother, Mother, please, call him back! Call him back!”

I shook my head in disgust, turning away. Crawling on top a pile of rubble, I stared down at the silvery sparkling waters of the river that wove its way through the valley below. The cool breeze flowed over my flesh, calming my soul. I could still hear Ariana crying behind me, but I ignored her.

When the hunger comes, there will be plenty of time for tears.

For now, we wait.

The Journal of Sir Stephen Sheridan-- Bistri?a

24th of August, 1819

Tonight was abominable. I do not know how I survived.

Earlier this evening-

As I stared pensively out the front window of the Golden Krone Hotel, awaiting the arrival of my lord and Master, Count Vlad Dracula, I sipped burning brandy that did little to soothe my nerves. The letter from Andrew Wright felt heavy in my coat pocket.

In all my years of serving the Count, I have never borne the brunt of his anger, and I did not anticipate enduring it now. I had seen him unleash his wrath against those who failed him with a brutality that is terrifying. Now, I feared I would fall victim to his anger.

A thick fog rolled slowly down the street, dark and menacing as it undulated in great waves over the flagstones. I knew this could only mean one thing. The Master had arrived. I took a deep breath as my heart began to race. Black horses waded through the gloom drawing a carriage up to the front entrance of the hotel.

I set down my drink and hurried to the front door. An employee of the hotel rushed to open the carriage door, and I anxiously followed him. Running a hand over my hair, I tried to steady my nerves and look presentable to the Count. He is, after all, a very particular man.

The door opened and, instead of descending, the Count’s long, cruel hand slid out of the darkness within the carriage to beckon me. I quickly clambered up into the carriage as the driver began to toss down heavy traveling bags.

The Count sat comfortably in the darkness, his auburn hair falling to his waist in curls. Dressed impressively in a black evening suit, he stroked his short beard thoughtfully as he regarded my expression. I quickly kissed the large ring on his hand and took the seat across from him.

“Master, it is good to see you. ”

“My dear friend, you seem worried. ” The cold green eyes stood out vividly in the darkness.

I took a deep breath and quickly found I was unable to continue. I was utterly terrified.

“Come now. Tell me. What has happened? I can tell by your demeanor that all is not well. Is something amiss in my business dealings?”

“No, sir, no. It is just that a matter has come to my attention that concerns your plans to move to England. ” I reached into my coat pocket and handed the Count the letter I had received from Andrew Wright.

“What is this?” The Count took the letter, his long nails seeming particularly threatening this night. Count Dracula opened the letter and read it with some interest. I saw his brows knit together and my hands began to tremble. “I thought I told you that no one was to know of the Wright’s visit to my castle. ”

“You did, sir. But my wife was given the letter the day they departed and she did not consult with me. She posted the letter without my knowledge. ”