Countess deVere, supposedly the twelfth of that line. But the family portraits all bear a very remarkable resemblance to each other,

and there's the case of the unseen husbands, the supposed children that no-one has ever seen, the wealth of ages passing in control

from "mother" to scantily-documented "daughter"... the implications were obvious to a seasoned Vampire hunter like Stockwell. But like his father before him, Stockwell had overestimated his own cleverness. For the Countess likes to play with her food, and she knows that not all Vampires are created equal. Even a stake through her heart will do no more than mildly inconvenience milady; the secret to her demise is much more closely guarded than that. And the chances of this handsome, earnest young do-gooder figuring it out are exactly zero.

So the Countess plays him for a fool, allowing him to cow her with religious symbols that mean nothing, lock her in steel shackles and a cold iron yoke (which is fae, not vampires - for a moment she thought he might try shooting her with a silver bullet). Oh, she does love to be "helpless", a beast at bay, allowing her captor his moment of triumph. All the sensations of confinement, even the momentary thrill that just maybe this oh-so-clever hunk will actually have figured her out and be a threat to her... all in preparation for her eventual inevitable triumph. You have caged the beast, Master Stockwell, but it is the beast that has captured you. And you would do well to remember the dire imprecations not to gaze into her eyes, for then she will have you in her seductive spell, and you will be craving the opportunity to grovel at her elegantly-pointed toes....