New York lay beneath a gray veil of fog when Alice arrived. The cold felt sharper than usual, as if the city itself were reacting to her presence. Deep within her, she could already feel the first effects of Dracula's blood burning through her veins, a weight accompanied by dormant, coiled power. Her heartbeat was no longer steady; at times, it seemed to pulse in two distinct rhythms.
She stepped into the apartment and found Rose waiting for her, arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between relief and anger.
"Did you do it?" Rose asked, without pretense.
Alice moved closer, exhausted, yet with a dark glint in her eyes.
"I did… He's with me now. The power the Council tried to keep hidden from the world, it's inside me."
Rose stared at her, the silence thick and oppressive. It wasn't just concern; it was the fear of someone witnessing, up close, what Alice was becoming.
In the days that followed, Alice's actions did not remain concealed. Word of the violation of the Wallachian tomb spread through the shadows of the vampiric underworld. The Council knew. Her name became a dangerous whisper, a specter carrying something that was never meant to be touched.
Secret meetings were called. Ancient, powerful voices no longer saw her as a pawn, but as a threat that had to be eradicated. In their eyes, Alice had crossed a line from which there was no return.
Even former allies hesitated now. In dark alleys and underground clubs, the murmurs were always the same:
"She must be destroyed, before Dracula awakens within her."
Before any confrontation could take place, Alice went to the cemetery. The night was silent, and dim streetlights cast pale reflections over the cold marble of Kara's grave. Alice knelt, tracing the engraved name with her fingertips.
"I failed to protect you… but I will bring justice," she whispered, her voice trembling, not with weakness, but with restrained fury.
"They will pay. All of them. There will be no mercy, Kara."
A single tear fell, but her eyes no longer held grief. What burned within them now was resolve, a blood-bound vow.
That same night, she made her way to an old nightclub in Manhattan. The place was crowded with vampires and humans alike, the music pounding loudly, yet to Alice everything felt muted, distant. From the shadows, a familiar face caught her attention, Albert, a loyal servant of the Council.
The moment he saw her, Albert went pale. He tried to vanish into the crowd, but Alice's instincts no longer failed her. Dracula's blood guided her. Within seconds, she had him pinned against the wall of the alley behind the club, crushing him with inhuman strength.
"Going somewhere, Albert?" she whispered into his ear, her voice saturated with power.
He struggled, but Alice held him as though he were made of glass. Her crimson gaze flared as she tightened her grip, pain tearing muffled screams from his throat.
"Where is James?" she asked coldly.
"He'll be the first to fall."
Albert resisted, but Alice increased the pressure, bringing him face to face with death. Trembling, he broke.
"I—I'll tell you! James is in London, hiding in the Camden estate!"
Alice smiled, satisfied, and released him. Albert collapsed to his knees, gasping, bracing himself for the killing blow. Instead, Alice leaned in and murmured:
"Go back and tell them… I'm coming. One by one. Until nothing remains."
She walked away, leaving Albert behind, terrified, alive, and burdened with a message that felt like a death sentence.
In the darkness of the New York night, Alice moved like a living shadow.
Her war against the Council had begun.
The End