"You returned alone?" Herbert asked, raising an eyebrow in mocking disbelief.

"Not to worry, she'll be here," he said as he crossed the room and slid into a chair of his own. "She won't be able to resist."

"You say that every year, and yet...."

Von Krolock waved one hand dismissively. "This one is thoroughly snared, I assure you. There won't be a repeat of last year. As a matter of fact, I believe we might all get something we wish this year," he added, knowing his son would take the bait before long.

Indeed, not two minutes had passed before Herbert broke the utter silence that had fallen. "You know, if vague hints are all you can manage, I shall have to assume you are merely teasing me."

For someone who'd lived as long as they had, Herbert could be remarkably impatient; von Krolock would be the first to admit to using that fact for his own amusement whenever the mood struck.

"As it happens, recently the girl has caught the attention of a pretty, if rather pathetic, young man. He appears to be somewhat useless, but as he does seem to be aware of the danger his beloved is in, I suspect he may attempt to follow her here--with delusions of rescuing her, no doubt. If he does, I intend to give him to you, of course."

As expected, that piece of information fully captured Herbert's attention. "Really?" he drawled. "How...uncharacteristically generous of you, Father. I'd ask what the catch is, but I wouldn't want you to think I was ungrateful."

"No. You wouldn't." That had been something of a contentious point between them, a few hundred years earlier. While von Krolock certainly allowed his son more liberties than he would accept from minions, there were some things that simply would not be tolerated. Insolence, like impatience, had always been one of Herbert's greatest faults.

"I presume nevertheless that there is a catch," he mused. "The lad's pretty, you say?"

"Pretty enough. And you certainly aren't in a position to be particular."

"True. Very well, then, Father. I thank you for this gift, though whether I receive it is not entirely within your control."

"Do you doubt my ability to read mortals--especially such young, naive ones?" von Krolock inquired mildly.

"Not at all, of course. I simply wish to point out how disappointed I shall be if you raise my expectations like this and he fails to appear."

"That's a cross you'll simply have to bear," he replied pointedly, taking great pleasure in his son's instinctive shudder at the notion; Herbert was well aware that was no idle threat. After a moment, he went on. "All I ask is that you help keep the boy...distracted, shall we say. We can't have him accidentally succeed in stealing the girl away from us at the last moment, can we?"

"After last year? I should think not! I will, of course, be happy to, ah, distract him, should the need arise."

"Yes, I thought you might."

There was no question of disobedience; he'd taken care to ensure that Herbert, for all his irreverence, held him in too much fear to consider usurping him, without quite pushing him to the point where it would seem worth the risk. So long as he played his part well, his son would be as content as the rest of his people to accept von Krolock as his lord. The lad was lazy as well, and more than willing to leave the work that went into being responsible for so many to another.

Such as the work which had led to tonight.

Von Krolock liked to take a walk along the castle battlements every night. Partially this was because it comforted him to look out over his territory and ensure all was well; unlike the nonsense about requiring an invitation to enter another's home, this territorial instinct was something the legends had correct. Though, when he really thought about it, he couldn't be certain if the connection he felt to his land came from being a vampire or if it was simply a remnant of his human upbringing. His father had certainly felt strongly on the subject, enough so that he had even refused to flee the family estate when facing his own death at the hands of his newly-immortal son.

No matter; that was all far, far in the past.

He felt it when the girl whose lifeblood would lend power to their celebration of the coming year crossed onto his land, and he knew this year would redeem the utter debacle that was last year's ball. It was only by a ruthless display of strength that he had managed to retain control, and with it this chance to replace last year's meagre repast with the vibrant, delectable feast Sarah was sure to be. So young, so eager to experience life....

It was almost a pity he would shortly be taking all of that away from her, destroying everything that made her so extraordinary. Yet it was always thus: in order to lure his victims to him willingly, he had to seduce them thoroughly enough that he inevitably began falling under his own spell as well.

He'd tried, for a time, to maintain his distance from them, but after a few decades he'd had to concede that the effort was too great: he'd had to endeavour twice as hard to convince most of those girls to trust him, and they'd never been quite so blinded by affection as to give themselves willingly when the moment was upon them. A gift freely given sustained him for longer, but it also served to impress the lesser vampires with his power, that he could convince a mortal to give her life over to him voluntarily while they had to settle for what they could take by force.

One of the few useful pieces of information his late, unlamented father had taught him was that if you wanted to stay on top, you could never forget you were outnumbered. Intimidation, the occasional show of force, and frequent reminders of what you could do to them if you chose made peasants far easier to keep in their place. Vampires were little different in that respect.

He could, however, be magnanimous when he chose. For instance, he would ignore the fact that he had just sensed someone feed out of turn--without even having sense enough to leave his land first. Whoever it was that had just lost their life had entered his territory after Sarah, and had been following much the same path, so he presumed they had been intending to fetch her safely back home. Their death, therefore, was in his favour, and so he saw no reason to look into the matter.

And if the victim turned out to be the youth he'd promised Herbert, well, that would simply mean the one most likely to be a threat to his plans was safely out of the way. Herbert would survive the disappointment.

But that could be dealt with later. Sarah was nearly upon the castle. A part of him wished...but then, he always did. It had never yet prevented him from following through with what was necessary, but nor did it grow easier with repetition.

The following night brought the boy from the village, as expected, and a surprise in the form of the old professor. That one most likely wouldn't provide much in the way of taste, but von Krolock anticipated having some fun with him nevertheless before presenting him as a gift to the others. They had already traded sufficient veiled comments to confirm in von Krolock's mind that Abronsius was well aware of his true nature; he relished the challenge outwitting someone knowledgeable would present.

After a few centuries, he could hardly be expected not to toy with his food on occasion, particularly when faced with such delightful prey.

For now, however, the uninvited visitors had been shown to a room, Sarah was well and truly under his spell, and von Krolock was waiting in his study, where he had no doubt Herbert would be joining him shortly. That was the problem with living forever--after a while, the people around you held no surprises anymore. Predictability made manipulating them simpler, but it also made them far less interesting.

When Herbert did arrive, he was wearing a self-satisfied expression. "You were right, Father; I like him. So...earnest. Innocent. Nervous. Altogether delightful."

"Just keep him out of my way and away from Sarah; aside from that, you may do with him as you please."

"Excellent. I've worked my way into his dreams tonight; by the time we meet again tomorrow evening, he should be easy prey."

Privately, von Krolock was skeptical; Herbert was prone to letting his enthusiasm run away with him, and on those occasions his judgement could not be relied upon. Herbert's efforts would nevertheless assist his own plans, even if unsuccessful, so he refrained from expressing his doubts that the situation was quite so under control as his son had claimed. He himself would continue to take advantage of any opportunities that came along to lure Alfred away from his purpose in coming to the castle, in any case. So long as he was left too busy to locate Sarah or interfere in von Krolock's own game with the old man, all would be well.

Drumming his fingers idly on the desktop, he turned his thoughts to another potential problem. Professor Abronsius' lack of ignorance, entertaining though it no doubt would continue to be, nevertheless posed a danger, however slight.

Loath though von Krolock was to admit it, during the day he and Herbert were effectively defenseless. This time of year daylight hours were few, but there would still be more than sufficient time for the Professor to locate their crypt if he were determined to do so.

Then again, there was a reason he made a point of keeping a mortal servant around, however useless he might be when it came to more traditional duties.

"I shall have Koukol keep an eye on our guests tomorrow," von Krolock announced. "We can't have them wandering all over the castle while we sleep."

"If you think it best, Father," Herbert replied with a shrug. "Though if Sarah is truly as enraptured by you as you say, I fail to see how seeing Alfred again could change that, however charming he may be."

At times, it was hard to believe Herbert could be his son.

On the other hand, if even he thought it was Sarah von Krolock was concerned about, how might the significantly less astute Koukol interpret the order? Perhaps it would be best to simply instruct him to retire to the crypts once the visitors had woken; that way he'd be more likely to be where he might be of use, rather than guarding the girl or something equally unhelpful.

After all, everything was going too well to take chances now. Come midnight, Sarah would be his, Herbert could have her would-be suitor, and the rest of his people would be placated by Professor Abronsius--and last year's fiasco would be forgotten.

And then he must begin the search for a new sacrifice.