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They also had a strong desire for bloodlust. Both Gaius and Dracula were not affected by bloodlust and crucifixes. They will not die under sunlight and wooden stakes on their hearts but will weaken almost to a mortal being. They could even control the weather by covering the sky with thick, stormy clouds to shield them from the sunlight. They also possess mesmerism, which is the ability to mentally dominate, coerce, and order people to obey his desires upon eye-to-eye contact.

Damian I saw Myra let out an inaudible gasp. She didn't expect me to be a by-product of a human and a vampire. "But aren't vampires...turned?" I leaned one side against the windowsill, looking out at the starless night. I let out a shirt, humourless chuckle. "No. That's a misconception. A long time ago, vampires stopped turning humans into hybrids. That's what we call them. When a vampire drinks a human's blood then they usually drain the human out and kill them in the process."

The man stopped abruptly, almost falling backwards as he did so and muttered a few drunken slurs that were unintelligible, even to a vampire. Feeling his hunger reach its peak, he bared his fangs at the man and snarled just as a strike of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating his figure. Absolutely terrified but still drunk, the man turned on his heel and tried to run away only to trip over, landing in a puddle. He waited until the man had gotten back to his feet and then captured him in a strong grip from behind, sinking his fangs deep into his neck. Guzzling down the warm, sticky blood, he couldn't stop himself even as the bitter taste caused by alcohol hit the back of his throat. I

On the dark oak counter rested a velvet-lined wooden case containing a manuscript Helena had not seen the day before. “There are truths that only reveal themselves when blood recognizes its match,” murmured Mrs. Gable, her bony fingers sliding over the book’s cover. “You touched the Wolf, didn’t you? And from the glow in your eyes, he touched you as well.” Helena did not confirm it, but the tremor in her hands as she opened the manuscript was answer enough. The document was a memorial record from one of Dante’s ancestors, dated before the great sawmill fire. As she read, the structure of Blackwater’s supernatural universe began to expand before her eyes in layers of tragedy and destiny.

The god laugh, "you have no idea. None the less, all those souls belong to me. When they die, they come right to me to be tortured." That was when realisation hit Dracula. He leant forward to see under the hood, only to jump back in fright and stumbled over. All he saw was a skull with a red glow around it. There were no eyes, nose, or mouth. "You are Hades, maybe you can help me." Dracula grabbed a hold of Hades' cloak, instantly feeling his life force draining away. Hades looked at him and smiled, "I don't do favours." "Please, I beg of you? I don't want to die from this plague." Dracula plead.

“I’d run in the other direction and never look back, if it wasn’t for the feelings I have for Kira. I can’t imagine life without her now that I’ve found her. I also can’t imagine living a life on the run from evil vampires. So, out of preservation for my own selfish needs, I’m going to do what I have to do to try to eliminate the threat that son-of-a-bitch, Lord Malcolm Jameson, poses to my happiness.” “Here, here,” Tim muttered before his breathing turned into a faint snore. Edwin gave his research on the net his full attention while he did his best to hold back the panic that threatened to overtake him. What was he thinking? He and Tim were humans. Even Kira – who was a vampire and a w

As she finished the book she reached her home. She put the book on top of the table and went inside the secret room inside the basement. She sits and looks around. The room is already full of medicines but Waylan couldn't stop inventing and researching for medicines that could turn vampires into humans. She already made medicine that can help vampires walk while the sun is shining, medicines for them not to crave for blood, etc. She suddenly sighed. "All this medicine is useless without any vampire around," she murmured while closing her eyes and falling into sleep.

Only one person would use such symbolic language. I picked up the vase with hands that trembled slightly. There was a card attached to a thin cord. The handwriting was not Cassius’s. It was strong, angular, almost engraved. “Dracula vampira. Thrives in darkness, but does not survive without a touch of light. Requires special care. Cannot be treated like the others. Some rare things need shadow to reveal their true beauty.” I read the words once, twice, three times. Each syllable was a balm on the open wounds of my soul.

I had napped for a brief period before I was back in the library, surrounded by books and papers and cold tea. Roxanna's writing was far more elegant than my own, a beautiful swirl of words, but I almost didn't need to read them to know what they say. It was like I'd written them myself. Except for one. A small piece of paper that was tucked away in an original copy of Dracula, a gift from Mina Harker, a friend to Roxanna, and Bram Stoker who'd written it after hearing the tale from Johnathan and Abe themselves over a feast, and too much wine.

Pellethia held the scroll and read aloud, “Only the creatures willing to go through any lengths to protect those who need protection most shall inherit the Forest of Oderem.” At the end of it was a signature that vampires had only ever seen in museums - the signature of Count Dracula. Greg’s eyes went back to the ceiling before the pessimistic part of him spoke, “I wonder how the inhabitants planted it there.” A shade of suspicion entered Pellethia’s eyes of wonder as she turned to Greg and asked, “You really think those who hid here put this there, Your Grace?”