Liz's head drooped slowly to her chest before she lifted it with a start. She hadn't slept in over twenty hours, and fatigue was starting to get to her. She smoothed out the directions and the map, and tried to make sense of it as the tiny car crept around a blind curve.

"We're never going to find this place," Maria whined from the driver's seat, "years from now someone will find out bones out here, picked clean by vultures." Liz giggled at her friend's concern, looking out into the blizzard that stormed around them.

"Don't be silly," she chided her friend, "vultures could never survive in this cold." Maria shot her friend a sneer, and the two of them collapsed into a fit of nervous laughter before Liz went back to studying the map. The two girls could pass for sisters, both being of Italian descent and having the same attributes - short, curvaceous, with a cute round face.

"It should be right around here," Liz said, staring into the snowstorm ahead of them. The car edged around a sharp curve, and the nose dipped suddenly as they reached a steep hill. Liz gave a short shriek as the car lurched forward, then stopped, then slowly began to slide down the icy slope.

She felt Maria reach out to grab her hand, but was paralyzed herself as she watched the scene unfold. The car drifted down the slope, increasing in speed as it went. Looming ahead near the bottom of the hill, she could see a fallen tree that they were headed to. She screamed just before the collision, and was dimly aware of the sound of rending metal before darkness engulfed her.

She wasn't sure how long she was out, but Liz awoke to a throbbing headache. The windshield in front of her had a spider web crack on it, and a small smear of blood. She turned to see Maria still unconscious. Her nose was obviously broken, and her head lolled to one side, making it obvious that she was missing teeth as well. There was blood on the steering well and Maria's chin and shirt.

"Maria, wake up," Liz said reaching out to shake her friend. Maria didn't respond, and Liz fearfully checked for a pulse. Relief washed over her as she detected one, faint but present. She kicked the door open and assessed the damage to the car.

It was going nowhere. The grill was smashed, and the right front tire was bent at an awkward angle. Steam gouted from the front of the car, but that was quickly fading. Well, if the car was still hot she couldn't have been out for too long. She jumped as she heard the sound of canine baying from a short distance away.

She backed to the door, almost falling on the icy ground, and climbed inside. The right headlight was broken, but the left was functioning. A beam of light cur through the dark, illuminating the outline of a huge canine as it loped towards the vehicle. Liz felt her heart jump to her throat as a second and third similar animal moved toward the car following the first.

Liz jumped with another scream at a knock on her window. She fell back against Maria as she turned and looked into the deepest pair of eyes that she'd ever seen. They were brown, and his dark-skinned face was surrounded by a mass of black curls that fell to his shoulders. He made a circular motion with his hand, signing that she should roll down the window. She edged forward and lowered it a crack.

"You should get inside," he shouted to be heard above the wind, "storm's pretty bad, and it's going to get worse before it gets better." His eyes fell upon Maria, and his expression grew grave. He circled about to the other side of the car as Liz grabbed a blanket from the back. The driver's door opened easily, and he leaned in to check her pulse as Liz had done. He waited a few seconds and was apparently satisfied with the result, for he nodded and reached in.

Liz was impressed with how easily this man lifted her friend. She was further surprised when he gave a sharp whistle and the canines fell into step behind him, sniffing each other and playing like puppies. She clamored from the car and followed him as he cut a path through the snowstorm. He seemed to be a couple inches shy of six feet, and possessed a strength that belied his wiry frame.

They trudged through snow that was almost a foot deep, but Liz's nameless guide showed no sign of tiring, and she began to doubt the wisdom of her actions. She had no idea where he was taking them, or what he truly had planned for them. The other alternative was sitting in a broken down car waiting to freeze to death, of course.

"Excuse me, sir...," Liz said, unsure of whether he even heard her, "How much further is your house?"

"Victor."

"Excuse me?"

"My name is Victor, my dear, not sir." Liz thought she could detect a faint hint of amusement in his voice.

"Be that as it may, how much fur-” She never finished, as he pushed through a thin copse of trees. Liz followed and came to an abrupt halt. What rose less than two hundred yards from them was a castle, complete with towers and crenellations on the walls. Relief flooded through her, and as the rush of adrenalin left her she felt herself sink into the snow as darkness engulfed her.

Liz was plagued with nightmares. She felt hot breath on her bare neck, and teeth closing about her throat, not quite penetrating skin. A warm blanket surrounding her, that pulsed and writhed as though alive, trying to smother her, with her being too weak to fight it off.

She felt herself lifted, pulled from the mass of bodies that threatened to suffocate her. She was easily placed on someone's shoulder and nestled in to keep warm. Liz could smell the faint muskiness of his skin, and the faint scent of sweat mingled in his hair. Unbidden, she pressed her lips to his neck, and felt an answering rumble from within him.

Light and warmth surrounded her, and she looked up, startled. She was in Victor's arms, and inside the huge entry room of the castle she'd seen. Realizing that he was the one she'd kissed, she blushed furiously as he set her down, much to his amusement.

"The hounds kept you warm while I brought your friend inside and to a room," he explained, "She's asleep now and resting. My maid is seeing to her." Liz nodded, looking about uncomfortably.

"What kind of dogs are those?"

"Moorhounds," he replied, and then laughed. The sound was rich and deep, and Liz felt herself smile as he continued, "actually a very specific type of mutt. Bred mostly for size and the appearance of ferocity. Come, let me show you around." He moved forth, gently touching her shoulder and directing her down the hall.

The castle was enormous, and he would occasionally stop at a picture to discuss the lineage of the subject, or the history of a particular suit of armor or weapon that was on display. Victor was very knowledgeable in historical facts, and she found herself fascinate by the stories he told. At one point, he stopped and tended to her forehead in the kitchen, after ordering his cook to prepare some food. Within minutes, they were seated at his table, eating roast pheasant and sipping wine.

"So who all lives in this place," Liz inquired, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Just myself, my hounds, and my maid Rebecca," he answered, "The cook stays during the week, but is only here at daytime on the weekends."

"So there is no Mrs. Victor?"

"I'm afraid I have little time for a wife," he replied with a rich chuckle. Liz felt an involuntary surge of arousal, and suppressed it, deciding to change the subject.

"So how did you find us, anyway?"

"You're actually very lucky. The hounds led me to you while we were out hunting."

"Hunting," she inquired, confused, "What were you hunting in the middle of the night during a blizzard?"

"Listen to me, Liz," he said, suddenly growing sober, "there are more dangerous things in this moor than you could imagine. Stay inside tonight, and keep your door locked. Promise me." He gazed at her with such intensity that she felt herself nodding even before she could respond verbally.

"I promise, Victor... "

"Good," he said, visibly relaxing, "now I should show you to your room. You should get some sleep." He led the way upstairs, showing her to a large bedroom where a fire was going in the hearth. She turned as they arrived, once again struck by the depth of his eyes and his handsome features. She moved forth, spontaneously placing a kiss on his lips. He stiffened, and then returned the kiss with an eagerness that took her by surprise. Abruptly he pulled back.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly shy, turning away. She reached out and caught his arm, pulling him back and forcing her mouth to his once more. Victor hesitated, and then kissed her back desperately, wrapping his arms about her. He lifted her to his arms, taking her to the bed.

Their lovemaking was fierce and animalistic. Victor entered her with an eagerness that bordered upon desperation, and took her with a passion that was unequalled in any of her prior lovers. Afterwards he lay in her arms like a child, and kissed her breast tenderly before speaking.

"In the morning we'll get someone to tow your car... you'll be able to leave then." His voice was quiet, and unsure.

"Victor," she said in response, "We have two more weeks of vacation. Maria isn't in any shape to do much traveling. We could stay here if it's all right with you... I mean, I-"

"No," he said, cutting her off, "you need to leave in the morning. I told you, the moor is dangerous, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"Well you also said that I'd be ok if I stayed inside, and it seems safe enough to me."

"Listen to me," he said, rising from the bed, his voice raised, "NO. You can't stay here." He lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders so hard that his fingertips dug into her flesh, causing her to wince in pain.

"Tell me you'll leave... TELL ME."

"Ok, ok," Liz said, suddenly afraid, "I'll go... first thing in the morning, I promise." He released her, staring down at his own hands as though they belonged to someone else. Looking up at her, he mumbled an apology before running from the room.

Liz collapsed back to the bed, feeling scared and intimidated. Why had he reacted so violently? She found herself unable to sleep, her concern about him increasing and her original fears about him returning. Why had she done something to rash? Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do now.

Her cell phone! Cursing herself, she realized it was back in the car. She estimated that it was about a mile away. With the hot meal and rest that she'd received, she thought about making the trip. The storm had died down, and she was sure that she could make it there and back in under an hour. Quickly she got up and dressed, pulling on her coat as she left the room.

It was barely snowing at all outside, but the cold seemed to slice through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. She headed away from the lights of the castle in the direction of the road, figuring she could navigate in the light of the full moon enough to get to the road. From there finding the car should be elementary.

She'd traveled less than half way before she heard someone approaching. Irrationally she thought that Victor had come for her, and fear welled within her. She darted through the trees in a direction that she desperately hoped was the road. Breaking through a small path of brush, she pulled up short just before careening into the form of another man.

He stood tall, just over six feet. He was dressed formally, with a black cloak drawn about his shoulders. He approached her gracefully, and Liz found herself unable to move under his penetrating gaze. Distantly she heard the sounds of the moorhounds baying, and he glanced in that direction with amusement.

"Too little, too late," me muttered, reaching out to caress her cheek with one long-nailed hand, "you have his stink on you, my prey." He smiled, and the moonlight caught his elongated teeth. She tried to scream, but was paralyzed as he moved close, wrapping her within his cloak. The sensation as his teeth broke skin at her neck was painful, but with an underlying euphoria to it. She felt herself weakening in his arms, eventually collapsing to the snow.

"One more thing," he whispered in her ear as she felt her life slipping away. He pressed his hand to her lips, and she tasted his blood. As the first trickle entered her mouth, the cold faded, along with much of the weakness. He pulled back with a cruel smile, gazing down at her as she weakly struggled on the ground.

"Have to make sure my friend's hunt is not entirely in vain." With a whirl of his cloak, he glided off into the woods.

The next face that Liz could see was Victor's as he gazed down at her. His eyes were full of sorrow and pain, and tears streaked his face. She understood his warnings, his concern, and suddenly, she understood his love also.

"I.. I'm sorry," he repeated, leaning over her form and examining her wounds, taking note of the blood on her lips, "I'm sorry. I tried to warn you... to stay inside... I'm sorry." Her eyes widened in surprise as he placed a wooden stake to her chest. With one sudden strike from a hammer, he drove it into her heart. She screamed as she died, and the last thing that Liz felt was the prick on her bottom lip from her own elongated fangs before darkness and peace surrounded her.