From the shadows, Draculus's laugh echoed around them, impossible to tell from where by sound alone. "Are these the forces you array against me, grandchild?" he demanded mirthfully. "Infants, all of you, to one such as I."

Rodimus shot a glance at Soundwave, who nodded; he stepped forward, addressing one shadow in particular as if guessing Draculus's location. "I want to negotiate, Grandsire," he called, and belatedly dropped a nobody say a word! into the group comm. "Surely we can come to a peaceable agreement."

"Your bargaining position is highly dubious." Still with the dark amusement. "Still, if you wish to offer me tribute..."

Go slag yourself. "What is it you want?"

"What do I want, you ask?" Another laugh, derisive and grating and loud enough to be painful. "Shall I demand your eternal servitude? Ah, there it is," the voice hissed, "that hesitation. No, grandchild, you still don't understand the truth yet, and until you do, there can be no peaceable agreement!"

In the group comm, Soundwave said, Contact, along with a firing solution. Bluestreak immediately reacted, snapping his rifle to his shoulder and firing two shots of blazing energy into the darkness nearly ninety degrees from the point Rodimus had been addressing. There was a scream, followed by a thud - a solid hit.

"Now!" Rodimus ordered, and the Cybertronian Vampire Collective converged on Draculus.

(Springboards off this, more or less. Also, I did not pull Draculus out of my ass.