Lord of the Vampires (13 page)

My compliments concerning his physical appearance are not due to sisterly bias; even Elisabeth gasped at the sight of his perfect and beautiful corpse, and could not extinguish the gleam of lust in her eye quickly enough to hide it.

Zsuzsanna! she exclaimed softly. How can this be? He should have crumbled to dust, or at the very least decomposed in some fashion

I kept my gaze fastened upon my younger brother, my sweet little Kasha, as I replied, The stake killed him, a vampire. But the regenerative powers of the undead are so great that, because his head was never separated from the body, he has maintained his form. I suspect the instant they are twain, the physical form will dissolve. Again, the burn of tears as the images returned to me. Just as Van Helsing no doubt accomplished with my baby, my poor little Jan!

Elisabeth put her arms round me, and stroked my hair as I rested my cheek upon her shoulder. What sort of bastard is capable of murdering his own child? she fumed. Dont cry, my darling. I shall see that he meets his long-deserved fate. You shall be doubly avenged, for should Van Helsing die, then Vlad himself shall do the sameor rather, descend into the arms of the Dark Lordshall he not?

Yes, I murmured into her soft, silk-clad shoulder.

Then that is what we will do, dear Zsuzsa. We need only kill Van Helsing to see Vlad destroyed.

* * *

Reassured but sad, we walked together back up the stairs. I felt a small gnawing hunger and should have liked to visit our gentleman, but Elisabeth became very stern: I had been taxing poor Harker of late, and if we did not allow him another days rest, Vlad would certainly notice and take action against us. (Him again! Sometimes I become annoyed with Elisabeth; she possesses such amazing powers, but tiptoes round Vlad as though secretly afraid. Oh, yes, she says she does it out of her own hunger for the chase to come, that without such games she would grow bored of existencebut I grow madder with boredom each hour I remain here!)

I yielded to her reluctantly, and together we returned to our chambers. Though she tried valiantly to cheer me with more of the usual gown fittings and hairstyles, I remained restless. At last she made to me the presentation of a small velvet box, a gift that she had meant to save for our first night in London.

I opened it with as much show of delight as I could manage, and was truly moved and delighted to find nestled within a pair of striking earringslarge round diamonds from which hung suspended even larger sapphire tears and to match, a gold necklace from which hung a great pendant of the same design, a diamond weeping sapphires.

I was enormously honoured and flattered to receive such an expensive token of Elisabeths affection, even more so when I asked her when and how she had managed to purchase such a gift, and she replied:

They were mine, given to me in marriage as a token of esteem. So I give them to you with the same meaning.

I rose and kissed her upon each cheek, and she solemnly returned the gesture. And so she began to speak of London again, and the different places she intended to take me shoppingto Piccadilly and Hyde Park, and Savile Row, but I could not feign interest for long. My frustration at being trapped inside these stone walls would not ease, so at last she tore off my clothes and carried me to the bed, where she attempted to relieve my anxiety in a more sensual fashion.

As I write this, it occurs to me that this was the first time we had made love without blood smeared upon our bodies, and without my having recently fed. Elisabeth was determined to better my mood, but her efforts were curiously lacking in passion. When even her pale enthusiasm began clearly to wane, I waved her away. Offended, she stormed offwhere, I cannot say, for even with my preternatural hearing, I could detect not a sound anywhere in the castle. I did not see her again until after dusk.

By then the full moon had risen, large and yellow and ringed with a radiant halo of mist in a starry indigo sky. It was a warm, beautiful nighteven more beautiful because I sensed that Vlad had departed the castle, leaving behind an atmosphere of easeand unbearably romantic, especially now that my Elisabeth was gone. Before I met her, the full moonglow used to pain my eyes so that I avoided hunting then; but tonight, it seemed delicious, inviting, and the moons incandescent whiteness, rippled through with pale gold, reminded me of my lovers skin and hair.

Fortunately, by that time, Dunya had risen from her coffin and I distracted myself from my loneliness by talking to her; she was too sweet-natured to show it, but I know she is becoming jealous of Elisabeths obvious favouritism towards me. Here I sit in new gowns and jewels, marvellously coiffed, and Dunya still spends the day in the worn (but fetching) dress I bought her twenty years ago in Vienna, with her dark reddish hair braided and coiled in the same fashion Vlads serfs wore four centuries ago. Since she joined us undead, I have tried consciously to treat her less as a servant and more as an equal, but there is a clear class distinction which cannot be violated. I think when she is reminded of it, it hurts her feelings. What Hell to know one is doomed to remain a serving-girl for all eternity! But there is nothing to be done.

At any rate, I did my best to reassure her. I had, I told her, demanded that Vlad bring us food, which was bound to arrive very soon. This heartened her a bit; for although she is slightly stronger than she was, hunger has again weakened her to the point where she cannot hunt for herself. (Even if she could, thanks to Vlads foulx magic she probably would find herself trapped inside the castle, same as I.)

But just as I finished my tale, Dunya sat up in her chair, and lifted her nose to savour the air.

Warm blood! She rose at once and hurried to the door of her bedchamber, following the scent.
Doamna
, there is a mortal here!

She projected herself with blurring speed out into the sitting-room. I followed, and heard her release a small gasp as our gazes beheld, at the same time, the Englishman.

He was sitting at the desk, pen in hand, writing furiously in a pocket-sized diary in the glow of lamp and moon. We both had rushed into the room with such haste that his mortal eyes could not possibly have perceived our entry, but he is clearly a sensitive, for he glanced frowning in our direction.

Sleep, I said. Straightway, he rose, pen and diary in one hand, and clumsily pulled the long couch into a bright pane of moonlight in front of the grand windowthe one which looks down onto the great chasm and the forested valley far below, and the mountains far beyond. At once he lay downon his side, fortunately, so that the snoring which immediately commenced was less stertorous than usual. (If he is indeed engaged, I pity his poor wife-to-be.)

Dunya clapped her hands and giggled, gleeful as a child introduced to a new present. How handsome he is!

Vlads visitor, I murmured, as I silently agreed with Dunyas comment. Awake and dressed and neatly groomed, he looked even more attractive and gentlemanly in vest and shirt and trousers, and brown curls sternly pomaded. He also had the beginnings of a dark beard, which gave his boyish features an agreeable severity, and made his jaw and cheeks appear thinner and more sculpted.

So deeply did he fall into trance that the diary and pen, which he heretofore had jealously clutched, dropped from his now-relaxed fingers onto the couch. Before I could react, the nib fell directly onto the centuries-old brocade and the ink was immediately absorbed, leaving a small black starburst that could never be washed out.

Thoughtless guests! I exclaimed. Really, have they no concern for others property? And I slipped the pen into his vest pocketnib down. The diary, however, I took into my hands, hoping to fool Dunya into believing I had never before met the genteel Mr. Harker.

Hmph! What sort of chicken scratchings are these? Why does he not write in English? I peered up from the small book to address the sleeping man. Well, you shall, sir, from now on, I commanded, in the voice of a mesmerist. You may
think
you are writing in this bizarre scrawl, but you shall in truth write everything down in proper English. How else shall I indulge my curiosity? And I bent low and slipped the diary next to the pen.

When I rose, I glanced over to see poor Dunya transfixedstaring down at Harker with lips parted, sharp, shining teeth bared, and eyes filled with a wild hunger that was painful to see. And yet she was restrained by an invisible wall of fear.

I must not! she whisperedto neither me nor Harker, but to herself. I must not! He would destroy me

He
meaning Vlad, of course, and I opened my mouth to say,
There is no more reason to fear Vlad anymore, dear companion. The man is yours. Take him!
.

But ere I could speak, I sensed rather than heard the rustle of soft skirts against stone, and the click of hard, tiny heels. And there in the arched entryway stood Elisabeth. How had I failed to sense her approach unless she had intentionally kept her movements silent?

To my relief, she was no longer angry; indeed, she was smiling and cheerful, and glanced at Harker with amusement as she entered briskly, skirts in her hands. Ah! Our Englishman seems to have wandered astray.

I left Dunya slavering over our unexpected visitor and sidled up to Elisabeth, who put her hand upon my waist and kissed my cheek as though her furious departure had never occurred. Thus I dared ask herin English, which to the uneducated Dunya might as well have been Chinese: I cannot bear to see her suffer so any longer, or to fear Vlads wrath needlessly. For my sake, let her drink safely, as you have let me

I half expected more anger from her, or at least an annoyed repetition of how it would be better not to overtax her powers until the time came for us to leave.

But she was in as jolly a temper as I have seen her, and she merely sighed with affectionate annoyance and stroked my cheek with her hand. One corner of her red mouth quirked up to reveal a deep dimple beside it as she turned to face Harker and his desperate admirer.

Dunya, my darling. Take the visitor; he is yours. Only mark that you do not drain him to death, else I will not be able to protect you from Vlads anger.

Atremble with desire and terror, the little servant glanced up at Elisabeth with wide, confused dark eyes. But,
doamna
, if I do, then the prince shall see the mark!

I stepped forward. He wont. Elisabeth can cause the marks to disappear.

On her face, darkness warred with light: darkness, as she wondered how I should know such a thing unless Elisabeth had done it for mewhich meant that I had withheld from my loyal companion nourishing blood, this visitors blood. Light, as she tried to repress doubt and anger and focus instead on this hope-restoring marvel, that she could drink deep at Harkers well without danger of retaliation.

As always, rage succumbed to hunger. She bent low over the Englishman, whose eyelids fluttered; clearly, he was watching her with the same delicious anticipation she directed towards him, for as she neared, his lips parted sensually to draw in and release air more quickly. His sighs caused a warm, rapid thrill to course down my spine, at whose termination I felt as though I had burst into flame.

Closer she drew to him, and closer, with the most erotic reverence I have ever witnessed, until her mouth opened wide and her teeth pressed ever so gently against his fleshnot piercing, merely touching. I do not think I had ever seen her appear quite so classically beautiful as she did at that moment: her eyelids half lowered with desire, her profile pale and fragile against Harkers more rounded ruddy one. A single lock of her hair had escaped the long braid and fell straight onto Harkers cheek, where it coiled, a red-black serpent.

In that pose she lingered, and slowly closed her eyes, savouring the ecstasy induced by waiting.

And I was hungry, hungry, hungrier than I had ever been, yet aware that my yearning could not be sated by blood alone. I pressed a hand to my heaving breast and looked at my beloved, my Elisabeth.

She, too, was drunk with anticipation, for her mouth had fallen open and, like Harker, she panted. Unlike Harker, her blue eyes were open wide and frankly ablaze with lust.

But not for me, not for me. And not for our Englishman.

Jealousy abruptly replaced my arousal:. How could she look at Dunya as she looks at me? How dare anyone else be the object of her passion!

Yet that emotion was just as swiftly replaced by surprise. Bony spine arched in a delicate curve, Dunya lifted her shoulders in a gesture I have come to know well, for it is that of the vampire preparing to strike.

At the same time, there came a sound like the rushing of a great wind, and its slamming into the motionless air of the sitting-room.

Leave him! Vlad thundered, and Dunya cried out in horrified alarm as he flung down a large burlap sack and rushed towards her. Before either Elisabeth or I could intervene, Vlad caught her neck between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her from her knees, then hurled her backward with such great force that she struck the wall.

She was, of course, unhurt (though she remained cowering in the corner), but the cruel disrespect of the gesture filled me with fury. What if it had been I or Elisabeth instead of a serving-girl? Would he have dared lay a hand on as?

My anger rose as he turned his wrath upon us two, shouting: How dare you touch him, any of you! How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it! This man belongs to me!

Able to bear it no longer, I cried, But
we
do not belong to you, and
we
are hungry! What sort of tyrant starves his own family, then strikes us when the opportunity to save ourselves appears? You say he belongs to you, but he wandered into our roomswe did not bring him here. Fate has decreed that we shall be fed!

His eyes reddened with fury at my impudence, as I knew they would; I do think if Elisabeth had not been there, he would have killed me if he could. He glanced from me to her; she said nothing at all, but merely gazed back at him with an enigmatic half-smile and eyes hard, cold, deadly fierce.