This takes place the night before Van Helsing and Carl arrive in the movie. Oh... and it's totally a lemon for a while there. It does explain Aleera's lines when she's got Anna cornered, about how she knows what lurks in her lusting heart and all that... but it's mostly me getting some dirty thoughts about Richard Roxburgh out of my head.

I don't own anything... damn it...

End of All Hope

Anna lay in her room, curled into a ball on her bed. She'd said she was going to sleep, but her mind wouldn't let her go; it just continued to play the last moments she had with her brother. All too vividly, she remembered the werewolf lunging at her, how she'd frozen in a deadly moment of terror, before Velkan had shoved her out of the way and shot the beast. Over and over she heard his scream and the echoing splash as he'd gone over the edge and into the water. Nothing human could have survived, of that she was painfully certain.

Like a floodgate, her tears finally let loose, her body shaking with sobs. It was over for her, for her entire family. She would never tell anyone this, never even dream of speaking the words out loud, but she knew in her heart that she would never be able to carry on alone.

"How bitterly you weep to be so alone… Truly, heartbreaking," a man's voice half whispered from the window behind her. Anna turned quickly, standing up at the side of her bed to face Dracula. She knew him from the paintings she'd seen of him, but had never met him. Very few of her family had even been in the same room as the Count, and none of them had survived. Although she knew it would do her no good, she reached for her sword at her side, and realized too late that she'd already changed into a simple white nightgown, and had no weapons.

His smile was both mocking and sympathetic as he advanced on her. He knew something of her pain, she surmised, because as an immortal, he would either have to turn those he'd become attached to, or watch them wither and die with age. The pair of them, the last of the line of the Valerious, were utterly alone. Her tears flowed free once more, all the fight leaving Anna's body. She hardly flinched when she felt the corner of Dracula's cloak being used to dry her tears, didn't try to recoil when she felt his arms go around her. She even responded when he kissed her gently; what more did she have to lose?

Her brown eyes met his midnight blue ones, never wavering as she allowed him to pull the nightgown over her head, a small gasp escaping her lips as he bent to take one nipple into his mouth. The leather of his gloves felt strange on her skin, and the skillful movements of his mouth soon left her holding onto his shoulders desperately. One gloved hand moved lower, delving down between her legs to probe the heat building from his teasing. He caught her as her knees buckled, laying her back on her bed gently before removing his cloak. The gloves came off next, followed by his jacket, leaving only the black silk shirt and leather trousers that clung tightly to his thin form.

"Such innocence…" Dracula breathed, taken in by Anna's wide eyes. He pulled her up to sit, guiding her hands to the buttons on his shirt. The skin revealed to her was porcelain white, and flawless, with wiry muscles covering his body. Of her own accord, Anna's hand trailed along the cold flesh, watching the muscles contract a little as her hand moved lower, unfastening the last bit of clothing hiding him from her. He caught her hand before she could pull down the leather trousers, laying her back on the bed once more. His cold fingers brushed over her eyelids, closing them.

Her eyes remained closed as she felt him climb into the bed, felt the weight of his body against hers. She didn't even open them when she felt his hardness probing her entrance; but they flew open when he pushed inside her, pain shooting through that part of her which had just given her such pleasure. Dracula hushed her soft cries of pain with a gentle kiss, holding still to allow her a moment to accommodate him.

"The pain will pass, princess… It always does," he murmured huskily before beginning to move slowly within her. True to his word, it did pass, her body arching up against his as the pain was quickly forgotten. She was surprised at his gentleness with her, always wanting to make sure that she was enjoying all he did to her; but then, he had to be able to do something spectacular to keep three beautiful women satisfied for four centuries. Her nails clawed across his shoulders, the white skin weaving back together almost as soon as the injury happened, her hands going up to his hair. Anna let lose the tie holding his hair back, allowing the black silk strands to fall around his face like a veil. Her fingers wound through his hair, holding him close as her body began to tighten around him.

"Look at me," he gasped, one of his hands grasping the side of her face to keep her head from moving. He did as he asked, looking up into his bottomless blue eyes. His soft grunts of effort matched her growing cries of pleasure, shudders running through their joined bodies. "Let go…" he growled, shoving into her with more force. She hardly knew what he meant, but her body relaxed for a moment before her back arched powerfully. She could hardly breathe, her mouth opened in a silent scream as pleasure beyond her imagination ripped through her body. With an inhuman roar, the Count thrust into her one last time before letting his coldness fill her. His eyes never left hers as they rode out their waves of ecstasy together before he collapsed against her, almost immediately rolling to her side, one arm draped over her possessively.

Dracula felt her get up after about an hour of just laying there, catching their breath and regaining some energy. He'd half hoped she'd be in the mood to have another dance, but he knew that the misery that had consumed her before had only been moved aside, not gotten rid of. He stood as well, moving behind her as she stood at her window, moonlight making her seem almost as pale as he himself.

"Are you going to kill me?" she asked in a quiet voice as he kissed her shoulder. One of his hands slid up her arm and shoulder to her throat, gently backing her into the windowsill, holding her as he grasped her hand. He pulled her arm out straight, his lips hovering over her skin for a moment. "You wish for death at such a young age?" he asked softly before biting down. He could almost feel her pain as the muscles in her arm went taunt, instinctively trying to pull away from him. He held fast, biting down harder, growling softly as he fed. She stopped her struggle and let her arm go limp, submitting to him completely as she had done before. His low growl of pleasure turned to one of frustration; it was too easy this way! What challenge could be found if she never fought him?

"You have taken everything else from me… What more do I have left for you to take?" she replied dejectedly, gasping a little in protest as he pulled away from her arm. He ran his tongue over her skin, closing the wounds as his other hand tightened around her throat. She gasped for breath, her dark eyes watching him in a twisted gratitude that would have made any normal person sick… but the Count was hardly normal. He caught her as she dropped into his arms, still breathing, but unconscious. "Foolish child… Why would I grant your greatest wish? I would take you when you have some fight in you… Submissiveness does not become you, my darling…" he whispered almost cruelly as he lifted her up and took her back to her bed. He pulled the nightgown over her body again, lingering a moment at the hem before pushing his hand against the dark curls between her legs.

Even in her sleep, she responded to his touch, her hips rolling gently as he slipped two of his long fingers into her, his thumb circling the little bundle of nerves that gave her such pleasure. He watched her once more, wishing that his brides would look so surprised at the building tension in their bodies, still cling to him as though they would fall apart if he should let them go. He even missed the feeling of warmth that only a human body could give, that she had given him that night. Dracula groaned softly as he felt her inner muscles spasm against his fingers, cries of pleasure escaping her full lips. He always had enjoyed watching his brides during that final moment, where he was even more their world than ever, when he gave them something no other man could. It made him a bit of a voyeur, perhaps, to enjoy seeing their completion almost as much as feeling his own, but he could hardly call it a flaw when he saw that precise thing every time he was with them. He pulled his fingers out of her, hand trembling slightly. He licked for a moment, wanting to taste her, and then wiped his hand off on her sheet.

He paused for a moment, wondering why he'd been so good to her; he could have taken her, left her even more broken and bloodied than she had already been, but instead he gave her the greatest pleasure she would be likely to receive in her life. Ego, he figured, was the answer. Even with all his accomplishments, he still liked to know that he could bring a woman to her knees. His gentleness was more easy to explain, because if he'd truly let go, the Count would have surely ripped her to shreds. She was so fragile next to him; he had such unnatural strength he often had to be careful not to pull the arms of his brides from their sockets.

Breaking from his reverie, Dracula covered her up, kissing her forehead. "I think it best you do not remember this night… Only regain your fighting spirit; you present no challenge if you simply submit to me every time…" He smiled, running the tips of his fingers over her jaw slowly. He hastily got dressed and moved to the window, turning back for a moment to look at her sleeping form. "Good night, my princess… may flights of angels wing you to your rest… For when next we meet, only the devil will guide you…"

He leapt from the window, transforming into his winged form, simply soaring through the night air. It gave him a moment to think, to be alone with his own thoughts without his simpering brides hanging around him. He cared for them, of course; that is, he enjoyed their company, but they often tested his patience. So often he had considered ending them and finding new brides, but he knew he would feel their deaths if he did, so he allowed them their lives to save himself the pain.

Aleera fumed as she watched her Master storm off to his private chamber. He had been out almost the entire night, and when he'd returned, he smelled of her. She'd suspected the pretty Valerious girl had seduced her Master before, but now, with him positively reeking of her, he was certain of it.

"We must finish this… Tomorrow afternoon, we will attack Vaseria." The other two brides were more than shocked at the red haired bride's plan.

"But the sunlight…" Mariska protested, gasping slightly as Aleera backhanded her. "The cloud cover will be enough to shield us. Do you want him to keep going back to that little… little whore?"

Verona simply watched the pair of them, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully. She understood Aleera's jealousy; she'd felt the same when Dracula had taken Mariska, then Aleera as brides. She'd long since gotten used to sharing her husband, and she had no complaints about the state he always left her in when he was finished. But a fourth would certainly test the boundaries of her patience, not to mention the notion that it would be Anna Valerious.

"Aleera is right. We need to take care of that girl as soon as possible, before she ruins our world. We attack in daylight, when they least expect it."