Gargolyes, co-created by Greg Weisman, is the property of the Walt Disney Corporation. Dracula, created by Bram Stoker, is the property of everyone.

Thanks again to Masterdramon, Gryphinwyrm7 and BookwrymPendragon13 for feedback and inspiration.

Purfleet, London

November 5th, 1996 A.D.

"At last," Fox smirked. "Carfax Estate."

The scarlet glow of sunset cast lurid light upon the ruins of the unkempt estate, giving the whole setting a hellish taint. Fox imagined herself standing at the gates of Dante's City of Dis or the temple of some forgotten god. Though she thought the plastic "FOR SALE" sign plastered over by a "SOLD" sticker marred the atmosphere somewhat.

Per her research, the property had lain abandoned for most of the past century. One notable exception in the '30s had culminated in a rather nasty murder-suicide. Surprisingly, despite what she knew of the estate's rather 'colorful' history, it didn't seem to play much role in the local folklore.

She'd spent the better part of the afternoon down at the local pub, trying to chat or flirt a little info out of the more garrulous locals. The fact that The Pack still commanded something of a cult following certainly helped. Still, she'd heard no tales of ghoulish faces peering out the windows in the dead of night, or spectral maidens wandering the grounds. If anything, most folk just considered it an eyesore.

On the other hand, a casual mention of the upcoming transfer of the Stone of Scone from Westminster's Abbey to Edinburgh Castle had provoked a very spirited political debate. Rather than take sides, Fox took the opportunity to quietly slip out.

The Stone of Destiny was obstinately the reason she and her husband were in London to begin with. The 'Society' had given David's his first official assignment. The Stone was the key to unlocking further advancement in the echelons. But if they were visiting London, she saw no reason not to scout out some potential 'side-projects'. Especially while they'd distracted so many of their 'competitors' elsewhere.

For years, David had channelled a not insignificant portion of Xanatos Enterprises' resources towards a single goal; cheating death itself. He'd explored everything from magic cauldrons to Egyptian gods to Native American trickster spirits, not to mention half a dozen other ongoing projects. So far, the results failed to live up to his expectations. But David never let a few false starts curb his ambition, no matter how lofty.

She loved that about him.

Ultimately, she did this for David. Possibly, her own "heritage" might extend her lifespan far beyond the human norm. But the prospect of spending decades or even centuries without him at her side left her cold.

Inevitably, the brand of immortality supposedly possessed by this estate's most infamous resident was placed under consideration. Ultimately, they'd both agreed that it be saved only as an absolute last resort. Still, Fox saw no harm in doing a little fact-finding.

Unfortunately, Fox found little in the way of pertinent-facts. She searched the ruins of the old house for almost an hour before she finally came to the doors of the ruined chapel.

She carefully forced the rotting wooden doors aside and stepped into the ruins of the chapel. Despite (or because of) her father's best efforts, Fox never cared much for organized religion. She'd always considered herself a 'Humanist' at heart. Still, she couldn't deny the place had a certain austere beauty to it.

Fox's hand caressed the broken marble altar at the center of the ruin, a tactile exploration of the ravages time and the elements had wrought. It cast a certain air of futility over the whole exercise. Even if her quarry even existed, this place was purged of all trace of him over a century ago.

Fox's cell rang, snapping her out of her funk. She quickly drew back her hand, cutting her finger along a jagged edge of marble. "Damn!"

She flipped out the cell, leaning against a pillar. "Hey, babe… not much, just doing a little sight-seeing. Honestly, it's something of a bore, might just head back to the hotel." She smirked wickedly at his response. "Well if you're offering, be there in an hour. Ciao, babe."

As she shut the phone, Fox quietly vowed never to let the man she loved wither and decay like that, even if she had to defy Heaven and Hell alike to do it. But for now, she planned to make the most of the night, maybe go shopping tomorrow. She fancied herself a new pair of shoes.

The last light of sunset died. The white marble altar stood stained by a single crimson drop, and a shadow fell over the empty chapel.

[-]

Castle Wyvern

November 1st, 1997 A.D.

"How did you get in here?" Fox snarled.

"You invited me," Count Dracula, self-styled Lord of the Undead, spoke. He reached into his robe, drawing out a gilded invitation. "Or rather, you invited 'D. Ville', reclusive owner of the notorious Sacrilege nightclub."

The emerald flames around Fox's hand flared. She kept them trained on the creature. His ice blue eyes never left hers for a second. He circled her like a wolf waiting to pick a straggler from the herd.

"For the past year, I have watched you, Fox. I have learned everything I could of you. I know all about your father… and your mother," he grinned wickedly, revealing canines that looked more at home in the muzzle of an animal than a human mouth.

"Wonderful," Fox rolled her eyes. "You're a fanboy."

The vampire scowled. "I have come to grant you that which you most seek… Immortality."

"You make her the same offer?" Fox tilted her head at the charred mass now clutching pitifully at the hem of the vampire's robe.

He did not even glance at the burnt thing as he brought a boot down on its skeletal fingers. The thing let loose a scream of anguish that trailed off into pitiful sobbing.

"The harlot? She was a weapon, nothing more or less. Slay her if it gives you pleasure. Consider it a gift…" he stepped closer, looming over Fox. "My Bride."

"Flattered, but I'm already spoken for," Fox let loose of blast of emerald flame, seemingly vaporizing the vampire lord.

Wisps of mist suddenly swirled around Fox's wrists, coalescing into icy talons that dug into her flesh as the Count reformed.

His eyes blazed crimson. "I was not asking your permission."

Before Fox could react, the vampire's fangs sunk into her throat. The eldritch flames surrounding her flickered and died. Her limbs went limp as the he gorged himself on her lifeblood.

Normally, he would not take so much in a single feeding, but the power in the halfling's blood intoxicated beyond anything he had ever imagined. He could hear her heart slowing. If he did not act, she would soon be nothing but a empty meat.

The vampire wrenched himself away from her bloodied throat with effort. He took a single talon and sliced into his own tongue. It drew a trickle of night black ichor that looked more like molten tar than blood.

He was after all, still a Prince. What better way to awaken his new Bride into eternal night than with a kiss? He lowered his head until his lips hovered mere inches over hers.

The vampire's back erupted in white hot pain. He released his prey and recoiled. He turned to face his attacker, snarling like a cornered animal. An aged, potbellied and one-eyed gargoyle brandished what appeared to be a sterling silver carving knife in his talons.

"Surely you jest?" the vampire hissed.

"Dinnae call me 'Shirley!'" the old soldier charged, eyes blazing, evidently intent on decapitating the vampire.

Dracula raised his hand. A burst of crimson light blasted forth from his palm, sending the aged gargoyle flying across the castle courtyard. He looked down in wonderment at the eldritch power flowing through him, as it did the halfling only moments ago.

Out of the corner of his eye, the vampire spied two enraged gargoyle beasts snarling and bounding towards him, one a rich blue and the other darkish green. He turned and snarled imperiously. The moment his eyes met theirs, the beasts stopped in their tracks. They pawed the ground and whimpered in confusion. Their eyes glazed over.

"Come, my pets," he spoke softly as the two beasts ambled forward and licked his outstretched hand.

A roar pierced the night. The vampire gazed upward to see nine winged shapes gliding towards him.

"Listen to them—the children of the night. What music they make!"

[-]

As Brooklyn and the clan swooped down on the courtyard, he was stunned by the sight that greeted his eye. Hudson was staggering to his feet amidst a pile of rubble. Fox lay in a slowly growing pool of crimson at the foot of a looming dark figure. Most disturbing of all, Bronx and Fu-Dog were fawning at the invader's side.

"Hudson!" Goliath roared as he landed at his mentor's side.

"Ach… I'm fine… just winded me," the clan elder waved away the younger warrior. "Help Fox! That grave-spawn's drained her nigh unto death!"

"I'll get her!" Lexington bounded forward only to be stopped cold by Bronx and Fu-Dog snarling at him with blazing white eyes.

"Easy, Lex," Brooklyn said, standing between his rookery brother and the entranced beasts. His eye narrowed as he considered the face of the dark figure. The centuries strangely withered it but he recognized the look of lion-like disdain in its eyes and the predatory leer on its mouth, now smeared with gore.

"Is that really you, Tepes?"

The vampire cocked his head. "Have we met?"

"Yeah," Brooklyn's eye blazed in white hot fury. "I was there when you butchered the last gargoyle clan in Romania!"

"Now I recall," the Count stroked his blood-spattered chin. "The 'Gargoyle of the Sword' they called you. Shouldn't you be dead by now?"

"Funny," Brooklyn drew his broadsword. "I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Easily corrected," The vampire smiled. "Beasts!"

Bronx and Fu-Dog perked up.

"Kill him."

Brooklyn's eye clenched tight at the two gargate beasts snarled and pounced. He waited for the rending of fang and claw to come.

Nothing.

He opened his eye. Bronx and Fu-Dog stood at his feet, whimpering and growling as they shook their heads back and forth, trying to shake free of an invisible web.

"I command you to kill, beasts!" the vampire bellowed.

Brooklyn slowly placed a hand on Fu-Dog's brow. The beast winced, blinked and then happily licked the red gargoyle's talons. Hudson quickly affected the same change on Bronx.

"Looks like you're losing your touch, Tepes," Brooklyn drew his eight-ball topped cane, sharpened to a wooden point. The entire clan of gargoyles began circling the vampire.

"So be it," the vampire snarled, drawing away from his fallen prey as his foes drew closer. "If you would face the Son of the Dragon…"

Blue flames of eldritch fire sprang up about the vampire, engulfing him, forcing the gargoyles back. The flames filled half the courtyard without seeming to burn anything they touched.

In an instant, the flames dispersed, revealing a monstrosity whose wings scraped opposite ends of the courtyard. The thing resembled a dragon in only general outline. Its long, sinuous body nightmarishly melded elements of serpent, wolf, vampire bat and rotting human corpse.

"Um," Broadway's eyes widened. "Can vampires normally do that?"

The entire castle shook with the Dragon's laughter. "I am no longer a mere vampire!" it roared. "The power… the blood of Titania herself flows through me! I am an Unliving GOD!"

Before the clan could react, the Dragon surged forward. The gargoyles barely had time to leap clear as it powered through the castle walls and dived into the night. The clap of the thing's vast leather wings thundered through the night.

Elisa ran to Fox's side. She pressed her hands to the bleeding throat as the courtyard elevator opened.

"FOX!" David Xanatos ran to his wife's side, followed closely by Dr. Sato.

"She's lost a lot of blood," Dr. Sato examined the wound, instinct and training taking over. "David, are you two blood-type compatible?"

"Yes, of course!" he answered.

"Then you and Elisa help me get her to the infirmary."

Lexington dived down from the hole still gaping into the nursery, "Alex is fine but Owen's still out cold."

"Goliath," Brooklyn said. "We need to go after Tepes. If he's already been invited into our home, then he can come and go as he pleases!"

"Brooklyn, what are you suggesting?" Goliath responded.

"I know how this sounds, but you have no idea what Tepes is capable of. We stood up to him and he will never let that go. Believe me, he was a monster long before he grew fangs."

[-]

Apex Tower

"There!" Brooklyn shouted over roaring winds. He pointed out a winged shadow soaring among the rolling thunderclouds over the tower.

"So what exactly is the plan?" Broadway shouted. "How are we supposed to fight a vampire hopped up on Third Race magic?"

"The Magus always said mixing magics was dangerous!" Angela yelled. "Perhaps he's not as in control of his new powers as he thinks?"

"Then perhaps we should test that?" Goliath bellowed. "Everyone, pick your moment! Strike hard and fast, then draw back!"

Katana and Brooklyn struck first, their blades sliced through the sail-like dragon wings. The undead Dragon coiled its head back and snarled more in indignation than pain. "Brief gnats! You think to slay one who is as eternal as night itself?"

"You know most of us are like five hundred years older than you, right?" Brooklyn quipped.

The Dragon unleashed a jet of bright blue flame from its gaping maw. Unholy fire racked the sky, seeking to incinerate the pair. Hudson struck from behind with the sterling silver carving knife. The silver blade sunk to the hilt the Dragon's flesh, eliciting a roar of agony.

"Keep it up lads, he cannae fight us all!" Hudson bellowed as he hung on to the writhing demon for dear life. Gnash loosed a shuriken into the Dragon's eye. Angela and Broadway raked its underbelly. Again, and again, blade and talon cut into undead flesh, gliding away before the thing could retaliate.

"ENOUGH!" the Dragon roared. Black wings clapped, creating a peal of thunder that scattered the attacking gargoyles to the wind. "You insects die tonight! Even if I must reduce this entire city to rubble!"

The Dragon's rage called down dozens of lightning bolts from the black sky. The clan took shelter on a nearby rooftop as best they could while the winds rose to a shrieking gale.

Brooklyn glared up at the rampaging Dragon hovering directly over the needle like spire of the Apex Tower. "I have an idea!"

The Dragon laughed as the storm raged, drunk on its new power. It did not heed the gargoyles attempting to evade its onslaught, nor the glowing green cracks staring to spread across its black hide.

"NOW!" Brooklyn yelled.

Almost as one, the entire gargoyle clan rammed into the Dragon. The winged demon snarled in irritation as it began losing altitude.

"Fools! What do you suppose this will accompli-" a screech of agony cut off the Dragon's rant as the steel spire of the Apex tower begin to pierce its undead flesh.

"NO!" the Dragon bellowed as it looked down at the energy surging from its wound. Again, the entire clan hammered down, staking the demon upon the skyscraper itself.

"NOOOOOOOO!" it shrieked again as eldritch energy consumed it from within in a final burst of emerald flame.

The light faded and the winds died down, carrying a few faint wisps of mist with them.

"Is it over?" Angela asked.

Goliath frowned as he eyed the mist. "Let us break into teams and sweep the area… just to be sure."

[-]

He hobbled across the rooftop before collapsing and violently retching a torrent of glowing green ichor. The Halfling's blood had not agreed with him. The gargoyles had apparently triumphed over the guardians of his crypt and the harlot had proven less than useless.

No matter.

They were all fodder, easily replaceable. All that mattered now was that he escape this accursed island. He knew the beasts' mettle now. This was only a minor skirmish, a scouting mission. Next time he would wait and prepare. Either the beasts or their descendants would pay. He could afford to be patient. His vengeance spanned centuries.

[-]

"There," Coldfire and her mate touched down on the rooftop. A faintly glowing trail led to a doorway torn from its hinges. She rubbed a small sample of the ichor between her talons. Its greenish glow faded to reveal dark red. "Angela was right, the beast could not contain the magic in Fox's blood. We should radio our clan and wait."

"By the time they get here the revenant may be long gone! We cannot let him escape unpunished, not after…" He touched the empty socket where his robotic arm had once been.

Every night since they were captured, she'd listened to her mate's distant cries of anguish. She placed her remaining hand on his. "Very well. First we radio the clan, then we end this monster."

The building itself appeared to be a medical facility of some sort. It reminded Coldfire uncomfortably of the morgue where they had first faced a revenant. Several posters placed upon the wall revealed its purpose.

"Give blood, save lives." her mate intoned.

"A blood bank? Our quarry must be desperate," she replied.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because he fancies himself a hunter, not a scavenger. He would not seek sustenance in such a place unless he had no choice," she responded.

They eventually came to what looked like a vault, great steel door swung slightly ajar. The chamber within stretched into the cold and the dark. Everywhere stood shelves holding countless plastic bags filled with crimson liquid.

Her mate screamed.

She turned to find his body contorted, feet dangled mere inches above the ground. The claw-marks of invisible talons dug into his metal breastplate and fore arm.

"My love!" She cried.

The unseen thing dragged her mate bodily into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling above. Her thrusters blazed, carrying her up until she landed atop one of the high shelves. Her optics scanned the darkness but found no sign of either mate or foe.

Synthesized pain erupted in her artificial wings, sending her falling back to the ground below. The tiled floor cracked as she impacted. She attempted to stagger to her feet, only to be thrown down again under the unconscious form of her mate.

"Beloved?" she cried as she wriggled free, cradling his unconscious form.

He is dead.

She felt the words touch her mind as they had in that dungeon. They carried the same miasma of spiritual decay, as though a soul could literally rot.

You are dead. Your clan is dead. All those you love were damned from the moment you chose to raise a talon against me.

She dimmed her optics as the shadow drew closer, trusted to Providence. The presence felt closer than ever now. True death could only be a moment away. She whispered a silent prayer.

Her hand shot out like a steel cobra. She saw nothing but still smiled as her talons bit into all too corporeal flesh.

With a synthesized roar of panther-like fury, she hurled her captive into the nearest shelf. Bags of blood tore and shredded, coating her attacker with the vital fluid.

For the first time, she stared into the face of her enemy, a crimson mask of hellish hate. She could see straight through the gaping hole still in its chest. It lunged forward, bloody talons extended.

She raised her hand. "Burn."

The vampire was instantly enveloped in a plume of purifying flame. Within moments, all that seemed to remain of her foe was a charred stain on the wall.

The fire suppression system activated. She fell to her knees as the gentle staccato of falling droplets danced upon her metal skin.

[-]

"How much longer will this take?" Coldstone winced as a spark flew past his face.

"It would take less time if you just stayed still." Lexington looked up, soldering iron in hand and a pair of welding googles strapped to his face. "You know, most people who lose an arm wouldn't be so surly about getting it reattached."

Coldstone saw Coldfire's hand on his undamaged shoulder. He sighed, "I apologize, Lexington. It has been a… trying week."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Lexington said sheepishly as he put away the iron. "That should hold 'til sunset but I don't want you leaving the lab or moving around too much until I give you a proper work-over."

"I must take my leave as well, my love," His mate spoke. "Sunrise approaches and I must watch over our clan. Owen has offered to see to your needs during the day."

Coldtone glared at the blond, bespectacled human standing impassively by the doorway. "I was safer with the vampire."

[-]

Elisa watched Goliath take his perch as the grey light of dawn slowly stalked over the horizon. "Matt and the guy were down at Sacrilege, giving it the once over after our little party last night?"

"And?" he intoned.

She shook her head. "Nothing, no sign of hidden passages, Homunculi staff or 'D. Ville'."

Goliath's brow-ridges furrowed. "You do not believe Coldfire slew the beast?"

"Do you?" she asked.

He said nothing for a few moments. "What of Dr. Harker?"

Elisa shrugged "Haven't been able to get through to her since we left her at Sacrilege. I don't understand why she didn't try to follow us back to the castle."

Goliath looked out on the Manhattan skyline. "I fear these questions must wait. Until sunset, Elisa," the gargoyle's wings flared as the dawn washed over him, freezing him in stone sleep.

Elisa pecked his stone form on the cheek. "Sleep tight."

Coldfire stepped out onto the tower, leaning on one of the battlements as she watched the sun begin its journey.

"Hey," Elisa said.

"Hey," Coldfire responded.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Elisa asked.

"No, not yet," Coldfire turned towards the detective. "But I would appreciate the company."

"Hey, what are sisters for?" Elisa smiled.

[-]

November 1st

Detective Maza,

I beg your forgiveness for being unable to stand with you and your friends in your hour of need. I wish I could explain my reasons to you. All I can say is that you went where I could not follow.

Enclosed within this envelope is a second page containing a ritual to revoke "unwanted" invitations. I know none of your friends are experts in such things but Pog assures me it is a relatively simple procedure.

Farewell, Detective. I pray for your sake we never have cause to meet again.

Yours faithfully,

Wilhelmina Harker.

Harker sealed the envelope as the waiter of the local Nightstone's brought her a coffee. Once he was gone, she quietly tipped half the beverage into an adjacent potted plant.

"Harker."

She looked up into the face of an elderly woman with three slash like scars over her left eye. "Canmore," she responded icily. "Eighteen."

"Seventeen," the Scotswoman took seat. "Don't ye ever get tired o' that?" She gestured at the cup.

"American coffee?" Harker inquired.

"Pretending yuir still human."

Fangs sink into the sanctimonious crone's throat, draining dry what little life still flows in her veins.

Wilhelmina Harker closed her eyes and took a slow deep breath. She wrested the beast back into the cage in the depths of her mind. She'd done so again and again for most of this century. So why did it keep getting harder?

"Is there a point to this, Canmore?" Harker tapped her Styrofoam cup irritably. She needed to get out of here, away from the living.

Fiona placed a plain vanilla envelope on the table. "Just after sunrise, a private yacht lifted anchor and sailed out o' Hudson Bay inta the wide Atlantic, the S.S. Persephone."

"He always did like to have his little jokes," Harker pretended to sip her coffee. "Most likely he's heading back to Europe to lick his wounds."

"And yuir goin' after him," Fiona Canmore got up to leave. "Oh and Harker, remember Duval wants Tepes alive. Well… at least as alive as you are."

"What about the girl he turned?" Harker asked.

Canmore just smiled.

[-]

Izanami-no-Mikoto, refitted oil tanker owned by Xanatos Enterprises, anchored five miles off the East Coast

November 5th

LaVonne sat alone in the blank white room. Blinding light seared every square inch of its near empty interior. In the corner, a rectangular depression held a thin layer of Manhattan grave earth.

From the Izanami's security room, David Xanatos studied his latest "acquisition". He admired her resilience. Already her undead flesh begun to regrow over her charred bones. Though he suspected the UV light constantly flooding the room inhibited the process somewhat.

Anton Sevarius' had conceived the 'Sun Room' as a potential means of inducing gargate's stone sleep using a combination of artificial sunlight and electro-magnetic manipulation. Renovating it for its current "guest" had taken had proven a simple enough project.

As for Ms. LaVonne's "dietary requirements", the monthly company sponsored blood drive would cover that easily enough.

"Told you it would work," a feminine voice purred from behind him.

David turned to see Fox standing in the door frame, a scarlet neckerchief tied jauntily around her throat.

"As I recall, my dear, your original plan was to capture Dracula himself?" he quipped.

"Details, David," she curled into his lap. "One vampire is just as good as another for our purposes. I'm sure Anton can't wait to meet our new friend."

"Is that a note of vindictiveness I hear?" he asked.

Fox's eyes narrowed. "After threatening my son? Anton can dissect her without anesthetics for all I care. So, does our new science project have anything to say?"

"Listen for yourself." David rose the gain on the 'Sun Room's' internal mic.

The words came soft and low through the speaker at first, barely more than a mumble which slowly grew into a chant, repeated like some mad mantra…

"Someday my prince will come

Someday we'll meet again

And away to his castle we'll go

To be happy forever I know"

Never the End…

Thanks again to Masterdramon, Admiral Larson and Celgress for your kind reviews and comments. This story turned out a lot better than I thought and I think a fair bit of that was due to your encouragement keeping me motivated. Hopefully this story will be but the first of many.

Ciao,

Algernon84