I sluggishly paced my bedroom floor. I had to escape from von Helfin Castle. Mama's floating body in the well haunted me when I closed my eyes to sleep. I could not eat without gagging; I spent my nights tossing and turning behind the velvet bed curtains. The longer I remained, the worse my horror grew.

I did not hesitate to gather my belongings together. Instead, I rushed pell-mell down the circular stairway and into the great hall. Cautiously, I peered around, expecting the Baron or Revaca Balan to appear. The massive space remained empty. Step by step, I inched toward the solid oaken door. Cracking it open wide enough to slither through, I exited into the courtyard.

Godoired knelt beside the garden bed, his back to me. He would not hear my footsteps on the cobbles as I passed. Sucking in my breath, I boldly strolled past his crouching form. The high iron gate squealed when I pushed it. I wavered momentarily, throwing a furtive glance over my shoulder. The handyman continued his task, unaware of my presence. I sighed with relief and stepped outside the castle precincts. Beyond the first treacherous curve, I began to run.

I sprinted along the steep path, putting the dreaded castle behind me. The sleepy village in the valley appeared much closer to the castle. My feet began to ache, and I slowed to a walk. Finally, my heel broke. I plunked onto the road to remove my shoe. Angered by the mishap, I rose and threw it over the cliff. Then, sitting down again, I removed the other one. It followed its mate over the jagged precipice.

Barefooted, I continued. Frequently, I peered behind me, expecting to find the Baron on my heels. I dreaded another confrontation with my mother's murderer. If he attempted to force my return, I would adamantly refuse.

"Oh, Ranulf," I muttered fretfully. Any hope of reforming my lover dissipated. His departure with his uncle sealed our fate.

"A vampire requires nourishment, Norah," the Baron's nephew pleaded, grasping my hands. "I must survive on human blood."

I turned my back on him, tightly folding my arms beneath my bosom. I realized he, too, had leeched onto my mother. He claimed he had to take her sustenance. I loved him but hated him for using her in such a way. I hated the whole idea of vampirism.

Life is a series of twists and turns; I consoled myself. One never knows where one will wind up in life.

The entire diabolic incident changed my life forever. Beginning with Papa stepping into that horrible fight and his subsequent execution, my world altered drastically. It culminated in Castle von Helfin—the vampire's lair.

Why had Mama chosen Romania to begin anew? We could have gone to America. When the worst times hit families, they packed up and moved to Boston or Philadelphia. Mama chose Romania—a godforsaken place. She stepped into the vampire's trap and lost her life to his bloodsucking family.

I continued to mutter as I plodded along the steep rocky path. The terrain chewed at my tender feet, causing them to bleed. Still, I propelled myself onward unrelentingly. I planned to locate the one-eyed coachman. If I insisted, perhaps he would assist with my purchase of a train ticket. I hoped I had enough money tied up in my handkerchief. I only possessed those few meager coins.

Mile after mile, I trudged. The steep incline wound around the cragged mountain. I could see the village over the cliff's edge; then, it would disappear. It appeared closer and further away intermittently.

Stumbling on a sharp stone, I fell, scraping my knee. I began to crawl, desperate for survival. Finally, I halted and caught my breath. I stood on trembling feet and began, again, the downward trek.

Sweat beaded on my forehead. My hair fell from its clips and surrounded my face in an unruly tangle. I brushed it aside harshly and stumbled onward. Finally, I turned the last bend, and the village sprawled before me. Desperately, I staggered onto the main road.

"Help me," I croaked, my knees buckling beneath me. I fell to the ground and lay prostrate in the middle of the avenue.

I regained consciousness slowly. I did not know how long I remained in my faint. Hours might have passed or mere minutes. Exerting all my remaining strength, I rose to my elbows and gawked. No one appeared to assist me.

Standing, I turned in a slow circle. The deserted road showed no sign of people traveling along it. The faded storefronts loomed against the dismal sky. A faint sign hung by a solitary hook and banged hollowly against a wooden post. I gasped.

Where had the villagers gone? When we arrived, the coachman greeted us at the train station. He quickly loaded our trunks and assisted us into his conveyance. As we passed through the small town, I noticed people milling about attending their business. Although the main street was short, it seemed to thrive with a particular hustle and bustle.

I glanced around curiously. It seemed no one had lived there for centuries. I had heard of old west ghost towns in the furthest places of America. I never expected to encounter one in Romania.

"Hello?" I tentatively questioned.

I took a step and halted. Then, I hobbled toward the general mercantile. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. The door creaked shut behind me and banged loudly, causing me to jump in my skin. Bare shelves greeted me. The rotted countertop sagged.

My nose recoiled at the musty odor. Covering my nostrils with my cupped hand, I returned to the sidewalk. The nearby public house cast the same appearance as the mercantile. Perplexed, I continued to investigate the village.

"Hello," I called repeatedly. I did not expect a response. However, I continued to call.

"Hello," a voice echoed back to me.

I stood still and waited for the voice to repeat itself. Silence.

Time advanced. Twilight settled upon the village, and I remained alone. Intermittently, I shouted 'Hello.' Disenchanted, I moved toward the pub. Earlier, I had noticed a room-for-let sign in the window.

I entered and climbed to the upper floor. Pushing open a decomposing oak door, I halted, startled. The image of a disheveled figure greeted me. Hastily, I stepped back, and a bureau corner poked me in the spine. I advanced on the specter again and faced my own image in a shattered cheval glass. Spinning on my heels, I clattered down the swaying staircase and into the street.

"Hello," I desperately hollered into the advancing twilight.

"Hello," a distinct voice repeated my greeting.

Breathlessly, I waited on the deserted roadway. The voice sounded oddly familiar, yet I could not recall it. When no one appeared, my shoulders sank. I turned and plodded toward the public house.

"Wait!"

I stopped and peered into the twilight. A shadow formed in the dusk and rushed toward me. I stepped toward it eagerly, then hesitated. Perhaps the Baron had discovered my whereabouts and intended to trap me. I did not wish to encounter my nemesis. Poised for a flight, I hesitated.

"Norah!" the unknown figure breathed my name. Then, Prentiss Wills stepped out of the gloaming. I collapsed into his arms.

My eyelids fluttered open, and I peered into the face of my father's curate. Prentiss Wills leaned forward. Carefully, he placed a damp cloth across my forehead. I sank back onto a pillow and closed my eyes.

"You fainted," he whispered soothingly. "We're in the pub. I carried you upstairs and put you to bed. Whatever has happened to you? Where's Bella?"

"In the well," I muttered unconsciously. "The bell in the well in the dell."

"Fanciful," Prentiss mused beneath his breath. He leaned back in a crooked chair and studied me curiously.

"It's not fancy, Prentiss," I remarked hotly. I sat up abruptly and swept away the moist cloth. "They're vampires! They sucked away all Mama's blood and dumped her in the well."

I sank back against the pillow and sobbed. The curate ogled me, his jaw-dropping open in disbelief.

"I can show you if you do not believe me," I exclaimed wearily. "I can show you what von Helfin did to my Mama after he finished with her. She's in the bottom of a deep well far in that forbidden forest." I jerked my thumb in the general direction.

Deliberately, I told my story from the time of our arrival until my flight from the castle. Prentiss listened solemnly.

The following morning, we trekked into the woods. My index finger shook as I pointed fearfully to the well in the dell. Cautiously, my companion approached the crumbling shaft and peered inside intermittently. Falling to his knees, Prentiss Wills folded his hands together beneath his chin. His lips formed a prayer for the dead. Ashen-faced, he stood and strolled to me.

"Vampires," he exclaimed in a daze. "Extraordinary."

We returned to the village and sat in a pub lounge booth. Prentiss located an old-fashioned brandy bottle. He sniffed it and declared it fit to drink. Pouring the libations into two goblets, he sipped and encouraged me to do the same. It burned my throat at first but calmed me instantly.

"We cannot remain here," the curate declared, leaning toward me. "The Baron might return at any moment. If he catches us, we haven't much of a chance."

I heartedly agreed.

"Another village lies on the other side of the valley," Prentiss stated, clasping my hands in his smooth palms. "It's quite a long walk, but, if you think you can make it, we can start without delay. I left the train there. We can return to Bucharest quickly."

"I can make it if I have the proper shoes," I replied, indicating my bare feet.

My companion located a pair of sturdy boots in one of the dilapidated upstairs bedrooms. Although out of style by several hundred years, they fit reasonably well, and I could walk in them comfortably.

We left immediately and, skirting the dell, tramped through the forest again. Night fell before we reached our destination, and we went directly to the train station. By morning, we arrived in Bucharest and ensconced ourselves in a moderate hotel.

"I will return to von Helfin every few days," Prentiss explained over a continental breakfast.

We sat on a cozy balcony overlooking a lush garden. I breathed in the clean air and broke a large hunk from a freshly baked baguette. Spreading strawberry jam lavishly, I crammed it into my mouth and sighed deeply. Nothing had ever tasted more delicious.

"As soon as the Baron returns, I plan to destroy him," my companion continued, drawing my attention from my breakfast.

"How do you plan to do that?" I asked, addressing another hunk of bread.

"Garlic will ward them off, and a wooden stake through the heart will defeat a vampire," the curate decided. Absently, he fingered the silver cross dangling from his neck. "The cross will ward them off also. And holy water."

Methodically, day by day, we formed our plan and awaited Baron von Helfin's return. The weeks began to pass, and I grew mentally and physically stronger. I accompanied Prentiss around Bucharest, and we gathered together our vampire-defeating weapons.

"When you return to von Helfin castle, I intend to accompany you," I announced during luncheon at a sidewalk café.

My announcement startled the curate. Straightening his spine, he ogled me coldly and then relaxed.

"You will do no such thing," Prentiss declared vehemently. "I forbid it."

"You forbid it," I shouted, drawing the attention of nearby diners. I lowered my voice and continued, "How dare you."

"A vampire lair is no place for you, Norah," the curate responded, fervently shaking his head.

"I will remind you, Prentiss Wills," I remarked, glaring at him through narrowed eyes, "I resided in the vampire's lair these many months."

"Nevertheless," my companion coolly began.

"Nevertheless," I exclaimed loudly, "they killed my Mama."

Heads swiveled in our direction again. I stared at the onlookers ominously until they turned away. Then, I refocused on Prentiss.

"I have the right to destroy them," I hissed, lowering my voice and leaning forward.

Prentiss bowed his head in meek acceptance.