Blood Marriage

by Regina Richards

  "Be careful," she said, backing away from him. He looked as if he might pull her back into his arms, but the sound of her voice seemed to have stirred the other men to action and the moment was gone.

  Vlad's expression was almost light-hearted as he handed the burlap bag to Lennie and took the torch. He started to hook arms with Elizabeth, but she bunched her skirt in her hands and shied away. Understanding immediately, the priest returned the torch to the runner, then offered her his arm again. She placed her hand on his sleeve and he patted it in a fatherly manner.

  "Come, child. We will see Lennie safely to the village. Then you and I will talk. You've waited too long for mea fiu to tell you all he should have."

  "Vlad!" Nicholas sounded alarmed. But Vlad was already leading her away.

  "Did you ride or walk?" Vlad asked Lennie.

  "Walked."

  "Then you will share the trap and pony with us. It will be close, but we will manage well enough."

  "Vlad!" Nicholas yelled. They'd reached the side of the castle. Vlad turned back.

  "She's my wife, Vlad. I should be the one." The plea in Nicholas's voice surprised Elizabeth. Was he afraid Vlad would tell her something that would destroy the peace they'd made? She would rather hear the truth from her husband. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Vlad she would wait. She pressed her lips together.

  The priest was right. She'd waited long enough.

  "Then I'll leave the most important part to you, mea fiu. But it is past time for some truth." The priest waved a dismissive hand. "Now go. Find Amelia's body before we have more than one diavol varcolac to deal with."

  The pony and trap were where they had been the night before, tied to the same tree. Elizabeth didn't even glance at the mossy patch of ground beneath the nearby oak. It no longer had the power to hurt her. She climbed into the little cart with the priest.

  Vlad took the torch from Lennie and fit it securely into a holder, then sat on one end of the narrow wooden plank that formed the trap's seat and took the reins in his hands. Elizabeth seated herself beside him, but facing the back of the cart, her skirts well away from the burning torch. Lennie climbed into the back of the cart and pushed the burlap sack containing sword, book and bottle beneath the plank seat. Then he stood in the small bit of space remaining; one hand on the side of the cart, a stake clutched in the other.

  Vlad clucked his tongue at Princess and they set off into the forest. It seemed a rougher ride than it had last night. Then she'd sat in terrified shock on Nicholas's lap, wrapped in his arms. Tonight, just as it had last night, fear rode in the little cart with her. But this time it was not the fear of her husband, but for him. In the courtyard at Maidenstone, Nicholas had said the demon vampire wouldn't kill him. Elizabeth prayed that was true.

  With Lennie standing guard at the back of the cart and Father Vlad driving it with a confidence and tranquility Elizabeth found hard to understand given the circumstances, they made it to the village without incident. Father Vlad guided the pony past the village graveyard and church, bringing the trap to a stop in front of a pretty two-story cottage with a riot of spring flowers growing in clay pots on either side of its front door. Elizabeth remembered the house. The vicar's young wife had pointed it out to her when they'd come out of the church after her mother's funeral. Her eyes had been full of kindness and sympathy when she'd invited Elizabeth to visit sometime soon.

  The windows of the vicarage were dark. Its occupants had probably gone to bed hours ago. Elizabeth waited alone in the cart while the men banged on the door. It took some time to rouse the house, but finally a sleepy vicar opened the door. His wife, a candle held high and her head covered in a flannel nightcap, peered out at the men from behind her husband. Elizabeth heard Vlad say her name and the vicar's wife started forward as if she intended to come out to speak to her. The men blocked her way. The security of four solid walls and the comfort of another woman's presence were so appealing that Elizabeth was tempted to leave the cart and go to the woman. But a handful of loyal servants still remained at Heaven's Edge. As Nicholas's wife warning them of the danger and ensuring their safety was as much her responsibility as it was Vlad's. And even if that were not the case, deserting the old priest, sending him back through the forest alone, was something she wouldn't do.

  Vlad and Lennie were speaking in low rapid tones with the vicar. Elizabeth couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't matter. She was busy watching the deserted streets, dark doorways, and murky alleys between the buildings around her, and trying to fight the feeling that something out there watched back. Whatever Vlad and Lennie said to the vicar spurred action. His wife disappeared into the house and the shutters of one window after another closed, their locks snapping in place. Bang and click, close and lock, the sounds ominous in the otherwise quiet street.

  Vlad shook hands with the vicar and Lennie went into the cottage. With a final furtive look up and down the street, the vicar's wife closed the door behind the runner, scraping the bolt into place. There was such finality to that sound, foreboding slithered up Elizabeth's spine. Father Vlad returned to the cart, clucked at Princess and they headed away from the village. Back into the darkness of the forest.

  Chapter Forty-One

  An owl hooted off to the right, the sound so close Elizabeth expected to see large yellow eyes peering out at her from the woods. But there were only the still trunks of the trees and the softly rustling movement of their leaves in the night breeze. The sturdy little pony plodded along as calm and serene as her master. From her seat facing the back of the cart, Elizabeth watched the trail wind away behind them and wondered how many nights the little horse and priest had traveled this dark forest path, and to what purpose. Often would be her guess, since both seemed completely relaxed and in no particular hurry. Elizabeth wished she could share their tranquility.

  They'd left the village some time ago and had been traveling in a companionable silence. Vlad's apparent lack of concern at being out in the open alone at night had calmed Elizabeth's fears for her own safety, but she was worried about Nicholas. Had he found the demon vampire yet? Was he locked in a fight for his life? She wished she'd stayed with him. Facing danger by his side would be preferable to battling the images she couldn't stop creating in her mind.

  The owl hooted again, the sound further away.

  "Will the villagers be safe?" Elizabeth didn't expect the clergyman to have an answer, but needed the distraction of conversation. She wasn't ready to ask about Nicholas's safety, unsure if she could bear to hear the answer.

  "God willing." The priest reached back to pat her hand. "Lennie will do all he can."

  Suddenly the pony shied toward one side of the narrow road. Its head swung from side to side, revealing eyes over-large and wild in the torchlight. It stopped, tossed its mane, and stamped its hooves, silencing the already muted forest with its nervous snorts.

  "What is it, Princess?" Vlad's tone was soothing, almost caressing, but his attention was on the woods.

  The owl hooted a third time.

  Elizabeth's grip on the wooden side of the trap tightened. She too stared into the woods on the opposite side of the road, unable to breathe, waiting.

  Then as suddenly as Princess had become alarmed, she calmed. Her eyes returned to normal. She stood quiet in front of the trap.

  "Probably an animal," Vlad said. He gave the reins a shake and the pony started forward again. Elizabeth relaxed her grip on the cart.

  Minutes passed. Princess continued down the path. Was it Elizabeth's imagination or did the animal seem to move faster than before? They were almost halfway to Heaven's Edge. Had the horse simply sensed home was close and increased her speed, eager to be in her stall? Perhaps. But Elizabeth found herself watching the woods with greater intensity, unable to shake the growing feeling that danger lurked just beyond the line of the trees.

  "Tell me." Elizabeth hadn't intended to whisper the words. She simply wanted, needed the reassurance of conversation. She
cleared her throat and tried again. "Tell me, please."

  "About Nicholas?" Vlad asked.

  "About everything." Elizabeth squinted at the dark outline of a strangely shaped tree. "About anything."

  Vlad's head tilted. He sat up straighter, his placid demeanor gone.

  "My sister Lucretia was a beautiful child," he said. "She had a passionate nature, but I always believed it was tempered by a genuine sweetness of soul. I still believe that. What happened, what she did, she did in a moment of weakness, of rage born out of tragedy. And though I didn't realize it until it was too late, she would never have gone through with such an evil deed. It wasn't in her. Not even after what had happened."

  "I don't understand," Elizabeth said. And she didn't. Why was the priest talking about his sister and what did that have to do with Nicholas?

  A few yards ahead, on one side of the road, the leafy branches of a bush stirred. Princess neighed, shying nervously to the other side of the path, but continued forward.

  "Our mother died giving birth to Lucretia." Vlad's back was rigid, his knuckles white against the brown leather of the reins, his voice unnaturally loud in the quiet woods. "Our father was a good man. He loved us and worked hard to give us a good home. Romania is a country of great beauty and mystery. The culture is old and rich, but it isn't always an easy place for a man to earn a living. Lucretia and I were often left on our own. We came to rely on each other, grew close. I loved my sister dearly."

  Though Vlad had not shaken the reins or even clucked his tongue at the animal, the pony picked up her pace. She tossed her head and snorted, tugging the cart first toward one side of the path, then back toward the other.

  "I truly loved her." Vlad's voice rose as if he spoke to the canopy of trees above them rather than to Elizabeth sitting just inches away. "I'm so...so very sorry...that I killed her."

  Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat. She turned her head slowly to the priest. Torchlight danced over his wrinkled face, giving an icy gleam to the tears that rolled down his cheeks and sparkled in his white beard.

  "It's my fault things have come to where they are tonight. If I could take it back, I would. God have mercy on my soul, I would. I was ignorant. Wrong."

  The priest paused, closing his eyes, sorrow etched deep in the lines of his face. Beneath his breath he mumbled something in a language Elizabeth couldn't understand. Prayers perhaps?

  That strange disquiet that creeps into a dream, that indefinable something that portends the transition to a nightmare, crept over her. "What happened?" Elizabeth whispered. She needed the priest to keep talking, needed it with an urgency she didn't understand. It was as if each word he spoke bought time; time for the pony to carry them a few steps closer to home.

  The hairs on her neck rose. Every muscle in her body tensed. She kept her eyes on the priest's profile, unable to look at the woods around her. Afraid to look.

  Vlad opened his eyes.

  "I was a young priest, newly ordained, when my sister sent me word that she had fallen in love with a prominent doctor and was to be married. Our father had died a few years earlier while I was still at the seminary. Lucretia had taken a job as the doctor's housekeeper and eventually began assisting him in his surgery. I was happy for her, honored she wanted me to perform the ceremony."

  Another tear rolled down the old man's cheek, finding a place to shine in his beard.

  "She never lied to me. Perhaps things might have turned out differently if she had. But we were close. She told me the truth. The doctor she was marrying was no ordinary man. He looked less than thirty, but he was older, many decades older. They age so slowly some people believe them immortal. They're not. At least not the true vampires, members of the Clans." Vlad's voice hardened. "It is that other sort that are immortal. The sort without human souls. They are a curse on mankind."

  Soft mocking laughter sounded from the forest to the right. Elizabeth kept her eyes on Vlad's profile, some instinct telling her not to look at what was beyond the little cart and pony. Princess continued to move forward, her gait slower, more hesitant now, her whinnies soft and nerve-rattling.

  "The members of the Clans," Vlad said, lifting his bearded chin and thrusting it forward almost defiantly. "They are like other men, some good, some bad. And a few, like the members of Sebastian's clan, are a blessing. A blessing," Vlad repeated. "I didn't understand that at first, not completely. Even after Lucretia explained Sebastian's work to me -- the healing he gave to those afflicted with a strange disease of the blood -- I didn't completely understand or accept it. In the beginning, the way he healed them made me sick with horror."

  "But again and again, I saw people, God's children, come to him hopeless, dying. I saw them leave healthy and strong. Husbands, wives, fathers and mothers wept with joy. They offered prayers of thanksgiving for the miracle their loved ones received there in Sebastian's surgery. Slowly I came to understand. When Lucretia told me, after they were married, she intended to join Sebastian in his work, I accepted her decision. I married them beneath the light of a full moon and that same night, she became a vampire."

  Elizabeth's gaze was fixed on Vlad's profile, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of dark movement on the road ahead. Vlad paled. The trap lurched to a halt. Princess shied back, whinnied, and tried to turn. The priest held the reins firm.

  "Don't look into its eyes." Vlad's voice was less than a whisper.

  "Hello, brother." Lucy's thick accent was unmistakable.

  Elizabeth tore her eye from Vlad's profile and faced the back of the trap, like a child convinced if it can't see something frightening, it isn't there.

  "It's a touching story, isn't it, Lady Devlin?"

  The sound of her name on Lucy's lips seemed to compel Elizabeth to turn. She fought the urge and the fresh ripple of terror shooting through her.

  Lucy laughed, low and wicked. "I had quite forgotten that story. It's been so long."

  Vlad transferred the reins to one hand, reaching back with the other to grasp Elizabeth's hand. At first she thought he meant to reassure her, but he turned her hand in her lap and began to trace patterns with one finger against her palm.

  "What do you want?" he asked Lucy.

  "Not you, priest, have no fear."

  Elizabeth struggled to concentrate on what Vlad was trying to tell her. He traced a series of symbols. Stopped. Traced again.

  Letters.

  Elizabeth willed herself to ignore her pounding heart, still the trembling of her hand, and focus on what the priest was trying to communicate.

  "Then what do you want?" Vlad said.

  "Not what. Who. Give her to me, old man. I'm not going to hurt her."

  Vlad's finger traced the letters again. B-o-t-t-l-e. Elizabeth closed and released her fist on his fingers to show she understood. Immediately he began tracing a second more rapid series. This one she understood the first time. B-o-o-k.

  "Why Lady Devlin?" Vlad asked, his voice conversational, as if they'd met on a sunny afternoon drive and were exchanging common pleasantries.

  "Because he thinks he loves the silly creature. If I have her, Devlin will come to me."

  "You have Randall. Why do you want Devlin?"

  "I will have a dozen Randalls, two dozen perhaps. Like Lady Devlin's mother, in the end, he will be nothing more than a vessel to house one of my brethren." An evil purr, a sort of caress, entered Lucy's voice. "Devlin is special. He is my childe. I made him."

  "No," Vlad said. "Not you. You are a demon from Hell. Lucretia made Devlin."

  Lucy shrilled and a fierce blast of wind, reeking of sulfur and rot, buffeted the trap. The torch extinguished in its onslaught, then exploded back to life as if fueled by the air itself. The pony panicked, rearing and bucking in its traces. The trap rocked violently.

  Vlad fought to control the animal. Elizabeth took advantage of the distraction to slide the burlap sack from beneath the seat with her foot. She pretended to cough and wretch in reaction to the sulfur cloud
that engulfed them, bending double and slipping a hand into the bag. She found the book quickly, then the bottle. She sat up, bringing both into her lap.

  "He and I have unfinished business!" The hellish wind died away almost as quickly as it had arisen, leaving behind the stench of evil.

  Controlling Princess with one hand, Vlad made the sign of the cross with his other. "Any business Lucretia had with Devlin ended when she left this earth."

  Lucy hissed. "I am Lucretia!"

  The demon was losing patience. How long could Vlad continue to stall it with words? Careful to keep her back to Lucretia, Elizabeth removed the lid from the bottle with trembling hands. Her fingers fumbled to the ribbon dividing the pages of the book. She opened it, clasping one hand across the top, fingers on the page, palm against the spine. Then moved her elbow, bumping it against Vlad, hoping he would understand she was ready.

  "No, you are not Lucretia," Vlad responded calmly. "Lucretia is dead. I killed my sister."

  "You merely staked her, priest. We both know that will only stop a vampire for as long as the stake remains in place." Lucy's words were a mocking purr, creeping closer. "It didn't remain in place."

  "Neither did her soul," Vlad said. "I was uneducated in the ways of the Clans. I didn't know that once the stakes were removed, in time, both Sebastian and Lucretia would heal, returning fully to life. I went to the mausoleum where Sebastian's body had been laid, intending to pray for the repose of his soul. Instead, I found Lucretia there with the duke's children. I staked my sister and in my ignorance read the Prayers for the Dead over her, releasing her soul. Lucretia is no longer in this world."

  "Enough! Give me the woman, priest. Or I will kill you both now."

  Lucy's evil breath stirred the back of Elizabeth's hair. In an instant the she-demon would be upon her, see the book, the bottle of holy water. There was no time to hand them off to Vlad. Elizabeth closed her eyes, breathed a prayer and jerked the bottle over her shoulder.