Princes of the Undead

Part 49

3 months later....

---/---

If he needed to breathe Dracula would have been holding his breath.

As it was he could still feel the weight of Mycroft's gaze on his back, the younger vampire almost gleeful...well for Mycroft...certainly brimming with pride for his own accomplishment, and Dracula would concede they never would have made it to this point so quickly and with so little bloodshed without Mycroft's connections.

Yet it hadn't been Mycroft at the negotiating table, charming and intimidating others into agreeing to this peace accord. The truce that would pull then back from the brink of civil war and sometimes hard, ruthless decisions had to made, and someone...him had to make them...that he was one of the few Elders left had eased that process greatly. 

What had started as an opportunistic attack by the dregs of Clan de Rais had quickly escalated. The deaths of several prominent Elders at the ball had thrown their world into chaos; the lie of Elder superiority had been quickly and viscously exposed. It left battles for control raging within clans, as leaderless factions grappled for seniority, and provided an excuse for outright attacks between clans, who took advantage of the chaos to settle ancient blood feuds.

Fortunately for Dracula, Mycroft had resurfaced a few days after the ball, with a limp and a vicious looking scar to tell for his adventure. However, when he turned up without Agatha, or any word on her or Isabella, Dracula's first instinct had been to gut him; fortunately for Mycroft he resisted that urge. Although that restraint was tested when news of Isabella's staked body reached them. Dracula had practically ripped Mycroft's head from his shoulders, knowing that of the two Agatha had already been injured, and if Isabella was dead...Only the reassuring presence of Agatha through their connection had saved Mycroft's life.

Still competent allies were hard to come by, and other than finding Agatha Dracula's priority had to be securing the other members of his clan by removing them to a remote safe location. Agatha would never let him live it down, if he abandoned them simply to run after her. His second priority was in trying to establish just who had survived the attack, working together to identify who was with them and who was against them, in that Mycroft had been invaluable...and it had been Mycroft's idea that had brought stability to their government...

"Count Dracula it is now your turn to sign..." The young court clerk eyed the Elder vampire with some trepidation, handing him the quill that the other Elders had used, the scent of their blood still lingering on the nib.

Cutting open his own palm, Dracula dipped the nib in his blood before leaning down and signing his name to the truce agreement...there is was done, and his attention could finally shift to other matters. And there was only one matter left in Dracula's mind, it was time he found his bride and brought her home.

---/---

"So, have you two boys finally finished playing war?"

It had already been a long night...no forget that a long month...and the last thing Count Dracula needed after a day of tricky negotiations was Lucy poking at him. That she was meant to be in her lessons with her sisters clearly meant nothing to the immature vampire. Dracula almost admired her single-minded determination in that way, or he would have, were not for this damn headache that wouldn't go away...

"Ms Westenra we are in the middle of planning a new government we are not playing anything." Mycroft interceded on Dracula's behalf, their Elder had become increasingly prickly lately, and although Mycroft doubted Dracula would react with violence, it was his job to try and protect the younger members of their clan...not that Lucy seemed to notice, a more self-centred girl he had never come across.