A Dream Forbidden (Lillith Mercury ) (14 page)

Sam is the leader of the second largest werewolf pack in the country, and Marco's mentor. I liked Sam and I trusted his opinion.

"How did you get yourself tangled up with James Matthew?" he asked.

I told him the situation and asked for his advice. As it turns out, Sam had only narrowly escaped Matthew a few times in the past.

"When he says 'monster hunter extraordinaire' that means he used to hunt my furry behind." Then he added with a laugh, "Bet it chaps his ass that I'm legal now."

After a few more minutes Sam assured me, "He's good at what he does, even if we don't exactly see eye to eye. Darlin' if you're looking to nail some bloodsuckers he's your best bet."

That had made me feel better and I played the conversation over in my mind as Dracula placed a drop of his blood on the large boulder, revealing the secret entrance into the castle.

Once we were in his room I stripped off quickly, still feeling afraid and a little bit numb. I noticed some bruising on my thighs, but that would be healed overnight. It was fortunate I hadn't been beaten worse, because that might have ruined our plans. Lucky for me, Bade had softened the impact. I must have gotten the bruises from the first time I was thrown into the wall.

I was already in the shower before I noticed Dracula standing behind me. He had gotten completely naked without catching my attention. That proves how distracted I was. The shower is large, with sliding stained glass doors. I had never seen shower doors exactly like them. They depicted a knight riding on a white horse and a magnificent castle in the background.

He opened the doors and stepped inside. Once again he had removed the mask, but his hair still covered the right side of his face. He didn't say a word, we just showered together. Voluntarily, I turned my back so that he could wash his hair without worrying about me seeing his face.

When he was finished, he wrapped his arms around me and I turned so that I could hold him.

"I'm scared," I whispered with my face pressed against his chest.

He only stroked my hair in response. Dracula has the ability to ease the mind of others through his touch, just as I do, and I could tell that was what he was doing to me now. Until he met me he was afraid that no one else was alive who still possessed such strong empathic ability. The last empath he had known was my ancestor Mathias Alexander.

I trembled in his arms as Dracula's long fingered hands caressed me. He rubbed soothingly up and down my back until I could feel my heartbeat begin to slow.

"Thank you," I sighed. "Should I comfort you too?"

"You already have," he whispered. He smiled as he handed me a towel before replacing his mask.

I didn't feel like getting dressed, but the castle was too cold to go naked unless you were already in bed. I slipped on Dracula's robe and went back into the bathroom to dry my hair.

When I came back out his long wavy locks had mostly been dried from the fire. As I drew near I realized Dracula was only wearing a robe. It was the one I had given him, so long it touched the floor behind him when he walked, made of thick black silk with a blood red lining. I couldn't imagine anything sexier than the sight I was privileged to behold that night. Even Marco's rugged sex appeal could not deter me from the beauty of the vampire. I found that when I was in the presence of one, I could distract myself from the other. If they were both in the same room then I had problems. But tonight there was only Dracula and I let my eyes get their thrill.

I was facing his right side, but the mask seemed to add to his dark sensuous appeal. He was sitting on the cushion in front of the fire again and as he slouched forward the firelight played over the curves and sinews of his body. Both Marco and Dracula had beautiful bodies and if I had to pick a favorite I'm not sure I could. Even as he sat resting with his legs slightly apart, the curve of his lower hips was still clearly defined. Dracula's magnificently sculpted thighs were probably my favorite part of his body, other than his lips.

His sultry lips that I was admiring so fondly now said, "You should go to bed, my angel. You need the rest."

"The night's almost over," I said. "What purpose would it serve?"

He just sat there, looking like the most beautiful statue I'd ever seen. When he didn't respond I knew I had lost this argument. I reluctantly crawled between the sheets. The instant my head hit the pillow I watched Dracula move from the fire.

He brought back a glass of water and the bottle of sleeping pills.

"Here," he said softly, "doctor's orders."

I took the sleeping pill, but I didn't want to. Dracula went back to sit by the fire and when I closed my eyes for a moment he was gone. I must have dozed off, but I couldn't sleep without him. Even if he just sat by the fire, I wanted him in the same room with me. I tied the robe more tightly against the cold and left the bedroom to find him.

I had no clue where to look, and within a matter of minutes I was lost. I knew how to get out of the castle and back to his bedroom and that was about it. My navigation skills left much to be desired. I had wandered down several long hallways before I heard another fire crackling. I followed the sound until I found an open door. The firelight reflected out over the highly polished marble of the floor. Just looking at the flames made me aware of how cold my bare feet were.

When I entered the room I found Dracula sitting on a fur rug in front of the fire. Upon closer inspection I was fairly certain the rug was made of werewolf skin, but that wasn't what had captured my attention. The fireplace which reached all the way to the ceiling was made entirely of bleached skulls. Not all of them were human, some had fangs, and some had come from much larger animals than werewolves. But they all fit together into a sort of horrific tapestry.

I knew he was aware of my presence by now and as I entered the room I asked, "What are all of these?"

"My enemies," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "These skulls represent some of those who have fallen by my hand." He scooted over on the rug as he touched the fur and said, "This is the hide of the werewolf who killed my family."

I sat down beside him, but I didn't speak. I knew that this was where he must come to prepare for battle and I had intruded upon his ritual.

"He raped my sister," he said, staring into the flames, "just before he mutilated my mother. I know this because I tortured the information out of him. He confessed his sins to me as if I were a priest before he died. They say confession is good for the soul, but I doubt it won him any favors in hell."

The cold detachment in his voice gave me chills. I wanted to know more about Dracula, but I was beginning to think I should have stayed in bed.

He turned to me and smiled ruefully as he asked, "This is not the sort of bedtime story you came in search of is it?"

I was sure he could tell I was afraid to speak.

"Come, my angel," he said softly, reaching for me. "Let me tell you something more pleasant."

I rested against his thigh and enjoyed the way his skin, warm from the fire, felt against my face. He stroked my hair gently as he told me about his family. It helped me to understand how he, more than anyone, understood what Elijah was going through. He had loved his sister too. He told me about growing up and all of the childhood friends he could remember. According to him, you do not forget your past entirely.

"Memories fade with time," he explained, "but those who say they cannot remember what it felt like to be human are either lying or stupid."

Next he told me of times when real knights and dragons had roamed the earth. I listened to the story of when he encountered a unicorn only to have it avoid him. When I asked why, he said that they preferred the company of virgins and that made him shit out of luck.

I fell asleep to visions of knights in shining armor despite the gruesome fireplace I dozed in front of.

?

Chapter Fourteen

Dracula's hair spilled across my face and I was spooned against the back of his tall frame. I breathed in his scent and for a moment was completely content. Then I remembered what we had to do tonight, and what had happened the day before. My heart beat faster and I felt sick.

"I was wondering how long you would sleep," he said, rolling toward me. "I did not want to wake you."

"How long have you been awake?" I asked groggily.

"About two hours."

That meant it was two o'clock and I had to be at The Dungeon by four thirty. That's when Mason would rise for the night.

"I should get dressed," I said reluctantly.

"Do not go to the trouble on my account," he said, smiling.

I couldn't even manage a smile in return. I was afraid all over again. What if our plan didn't work? What if they were too powerful for us? He touched my face and I trembled.

"Let me show you something," he said and his voice wrapped around me like a lover's arms.

Dracula held my face between his hands as he said, "Look into my eyes. I will show you what I once was and perhaps it will strengthen your faith in me."

His eyes became a solid emerald and sparkled, almost like jewels. As I gazed into them a scene began to unfold. It was like watching a movie on two tiny screens. I dropped my guard and just that quick he captured me. I was no longer watching through his eyes, I was there.

A battlefield surrounded me as far as the eye could see. Barbarians on horseback charged past, but they didn't hit me. No one saw me. Then, across the field I caught sight of Dracula. He was darker, almost tanned. Obviously he could still take sunlight at this time. His hair was longer and in a most unusual style, almost like dread locks. There were pieces of jewelry braided into his hair and his chest was bare. He wore leather pants and boots of a strange animal hide.

Several of the men on horseback charged at him and he cut them down, either by stabbing their horses or cutting off the legs of the riders. Man after man fell by his sword. He was the only one left of his army at least in this particular part of the battle. Others may have been alive, but not near. I had never seen anything like it. All the careful choreography of Hollywood could not do justice to a true battle.

He moved with the grace of an animal and a speed that was inhuman. There were at least fifty of them and they were no match for Dracula. Right before my eyes he slaughtered fifty barbarians with only a sword and a dagger. It was the most impressive thing I'd ever seen.

A moment later I was back in his room and his eyes no longer held magic.

"I will not let you die," he promised. "And you see, I am more than capable of defending myself."

As strange as it might seem, this vision of his past did give me more confidence. If he could fight off fifty barbarians, what were a few vampires? Of course they were probably as strong as ten barbarians a piece, but who's counting?

I got dressed and was at Mason's door by four thirty. He let me in, careful to remain behind the large door. Mason was very old and woke early for a vampire, but it was still daylight.

"Hurry," he said. "The others will be up soon."

Mason was still wearing a pair of black silk pajama pants and a long flowing robe with feathers around the collar. He always looked like a rock star crossed with a drag queen. He and Johnny should shop together. I was the only one who needed to be there so early. Everyone else would arrive later as part of the crowd, or part of the show.

I followed Mason below ground to his office. Once we were inside he pressed a button underneath the desk and his bookshelf moved, revealing a staircase.

"This reminds me of Dracula," I said softly.

"Where do you think I got the idea? Don't look so worried Little Red. We'll fuck these bastards up," he promised with a wink.

"I hope you're right, Mason."

He sighed. "Cheer up. You'll enjoy this if you let yourself. I plan to. It takes some of the horror out of the situation. Let yourself enjoy it, and you will no longer fear it, whatever it is."

We walked down the stairs and into Mason's bedroom. It wasn't as large as Dracula's, but it was close. His bed was covered in crimson and the sheets looked satin. Once again, a rock star and a drag queen had gotten together to arrange this ensemble. But I wasn't interested in his furniture.

Mason walked into his large closet and began to remove items he thought might work.

"Here, try these on," he said laying several pieces of vinyl clothing across the bed.

I hesitated. "I think you're lovely, but I'm not interested in your body tonight," he assured me. "However if you want to come back down when this is all over, that's another story," he teased.

Mason's laugh held the devil's own wickedness as I tried to change clothes as discretely as possible. All I could really manage was turning my back to him and being glad I was wearing underwear.

"Those will have to go," he said, pointing at my black lace undies.

Then I understood what he meant. Mason intended for me to wear a black vinyl thong. It wasn't so bad. It actually covered everything in front, including my scars, but my ass was completely exposed.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said as he held up a matching corset.

"I can't move in that," I protested.

"You'll find it's very flexible," he said with a smile.

"Get a good look, Mason, because this is the last time you'll ever see my tits," I said as I removed my bra so that he could help me into the corset.

"Where am I supposed to put a weapon?" I asked once he had me all strapped up.

"In these."

He held up a pair of vinyl knee high boots with stiletto heals and silver buckles all down the sides.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

I sat on the bed and zipped up the boots.

"Intensely," he replied, grinning unabashedly.

I sat patiently at the vanity in his bathroom while Mason did my makeup and styled a long black wig which was part of my disguise. After all, I was supposed to be dead. No one else knew Khan had gotten Mary instead of me.