"I will destroy you. I will set your writhing form upon a pike. You will beg me to change you, to save you, and I will deny it. You will cry out for death, and I will make it wait days to take you." Dracula stepped back from the woman, eyes narrowed in assessment.
"You are not his daughter. The blood is too thin. What are you, then?" He wished to fall silent, force Integra to answer him. He had no such fortune. The magic wrung the admission from his throat. "Your kin is well behind me in the chase. I do not wish to see his face again. It would seem, if what you claim is true, that such fortune will not be mine. I believed myself to be secure in my keep."