by Ana Calin
Then it hits me—my channels are indeed open. I understand the language. I don’t know if this understanding is going to hold though, so I let her switch to rusty-accented English again when she resumes talking to Vlad and me. Her grammar and vocabulary are impressive, just like Sedan’s and his sister’s.
“Otilia, we’re here to hear about the Lady of the Dark Veil and the pact she made with the demon centuries ago. Miss Len already knows the Lady was Ruxandra, the wife of my ancestor, Vlad the Impaler.”
I sit up straight, pressing my lips together and stroking the now empty glass of whiskey. So she doesn’t know who he really is.
“Miss Len is a distant cousin of mine,” he explains further. “She is descendant from Lady Ruxandra and the monk with whom she slept on the night she pledged herself to the demon. She travelled all the way from England to Transylvania to find out.”
The barmaid Otilia refills my glass and leans back, clutching her own glass of whiskey and measuring me up and down.
“She sure does look like Lady Ruxandra. The pictures from the old chronicles....”
“I noticed the similarity as well,” I say. “It’s what intrigued me to come here.”
I glance at Vlad and make a decision I’m not sure he’ll approve of. But I feel this is the right thing to do. I lean forward to Otilia, causing her eyes to widen and her shoulders to stiffen as the blackness in my eyes deepens, making the sight of me even more disturbing.
“I think I have more in common with Lady Ruxandra than just our name,” I begin. “I’ve had a curse following me ever since I started dating boys. Believe it or not, I have never been kissed, and I’m already twenty-three. I’d like that to change, as you surely can understand.”
From the corner of my eye I see Vlad stiffening in his seat, probably tense about me giving away more than he thinks I should, but it seems I’m winning Otilia over.
“I have a theory about why this is happening,” I press the advantage. “And it’s related to the Lady of the Dark Veil.”
Otilia inspects me with growing interest.
“You’re blood of her blood. The legend speaks of demon-black eyes. No offense, but you obviously inherited those,” she says.
I tell her more about the curse and how exactly it affected the men who ever dared the fates and asked me out. How not even one kiss ever came to pass; the last time someone tried, a crane sent a hook right between his ribs. He was still in the hospital when I left London. Only when I’m done I realize that Vlad has listened with the same interest as her, and something stirs in my chest. This man is a centuries old legend, sitting across from me in flesh and blood—or whatever he’s made of—but living and breathing and listening to the events of my life as if it’s the most exciting story.
Otilia has had half a bottle of whiskey by the time I’m done. She lets it all sink in, then leans in to us again.
“There are many spin-off fairy tales that have been born from that of the Lady. Looking at you, one in particular comes to mind.”
I hold my breath. This might be it. This might just lift the first veil off the dark secret that’s been shadowing me all my life.
CHAPTER VI
Rux
“THE LADY OF THE DARK Veil was a woman of many secrets. Her power over silver was one of them,” Otilia begins. “Legend says the silver book the Lady used to summon the demon still lies inside the altar at the monastery. The very letters inside of it are sewn of silver, which was the first reason why Dracula couldn’t approach it. The second was that the book was already ancient in the Middle Ages, and it was written in an ancient language. Not even the monks knew the language in order to decipher it.”
I glance at Vlad, and the expression on his face tells me that it’s true.
“It is said it was the language of demons,” Otilia continues in an ominous tone, even the room seemingly darkening as she speaks. “And Ruxandra had spent her entire childhood learning it—from the gypsies who served on her noble family’s grounds. It was one of her greatest secrets. The orally transmitted gypsy lore says that she used her knowledge of black magic in order to make Dracula fall in love with her, but that remains only a possibility.”
I glance at Vlad, but he’s looking down. I get the feeling he suspected that much.
“Is it true she invoked the demon in order to help him beat the Turks?” I push when Otilia remains with her eyes fixed on one spot, seeming hypnotized by the story unfolding in her mind.
She snorts.
“I don’t think so. The woman had interest in black magic, while Vlad Dracula was all about Christianity and God. That was the reason the Order of the Dragon, of which he was an important member, sent him against the Ottoman armies—to cleanse Europe of paganism.
“But the Lady of the Dark Veil was all about herself. Vlad had spent many months away at war and, in his absence, danger began to close in on her. The Turks had already begun to corrupt the boyars, who turned against the part of Vlad’s family that had stayed in Wallachia—Ruxandra, mainly. She turned to her skills of black magic mainly because she needed to protect herself. But the demon corrupted her to do more than that, to do evil.
“The problem is that demons, especially ancient ones, aren’t easily fooled. Lady Ruxandra was no more than a human, her twenty years in this world meaning nothing compared to the demon’s millennia. Demons like him don’t strike easy deals with humans.”
She pauses again, eyes wide, showing that she’s deeply immersed in the story. I glance at Vlad, but he’s still looking down at his own huge hands. All this must be painful to him....
“And?” I push. “What deal did they strike?”
“No one knows exactly,” Otilia continues, entranced by her own story. “I, personally, do suspect the child she had after that night was part of the deal. It was the demon’s gate into the world—becoming flesh and blood.”
The words run like cold snakes over my body, making me shudder, as if my bones want to shake off my flesh.
“You mean I could be the descendant of a demon?”
The woman’s wide eyes move to my face. “I believe only you can find out. Maybe the truth will reveal itself to you once you set foot inside that monastery. Maybe if you could touch the Silver Book the demon will feel drawn to you, and reveal itself.”
I shake my head. “Women aren’t allowed inside the altar, that was true in Ruxandra’s day, and it remains so today.”
Otilia’s attention moves to Vlad. “Maybe Mr. Basarab could bring it to you?”
Vlad and I lock eyes. Sure he can’t, silver is one of his weaknesses.
“We’ll surely find a solution on site,” he says.
A drunkard knocks back his chair and falls on his back, and the men in his group laugh, splintering the magic of Otilia’s fairy tale. It seems to wake her from her trance as well.
“Oh, look. There’s no more booze. I’ll get us—”
Vlad stops her with a large hand on hers as soon as she stands.
“We’ll have something to eat now. I’m sure Miss Len would love to try one of your specialties. Which of them is on the menu today?”
Otilia smiles widely at me, her chest swelling as she presents, “chicken fricassee, and a set of traditional cookies.”
I return the smile, realizing that I am, indeed famished. “Oh, I’d love some of that.”
Rux
I’VE JUST SLID THE satin gown over my head, preparing for bed, when there’s a knock on my door.
“Yes,” I invite, thinking it must be Otilia again, bringing some more blankets and pillows. The fire is rustling in the fireplace, but it’s minus ten outside, so she returned twice with more items to keep me warm.
But a large man’s frame appears in the doorstep, long hair, angular warrior face. White skin, blood-red lips.
“Vlad,” I whisper, blood rushing to my cheeks.
“May I come in?” he says in his deep, pleasant voice. He’s carrying a blanket on his arm.
“Yes, of c
ourse.”
I breathe faster as he closes the door behind him, my heart slamming like crazy.
“Otilia gave me a room,” he explains as he throws the blanket spreading like a veil on the floor next to the fire. “But it wasn’t next to yours. The rooms left and right are full of drunkards, all backpacks and not many scruples, so you need protection.”
“I, I, er.” I scratch my head, certain my veins are going to burst. “Thank you?” I manage, my voice cracking. “But remember the curse. I doubt the demon would let anyone get close to me.”
He looks over his shoulder, the profile of his face a shadow against the flames.
“The curse hasn’t kicked in since you and I met, has it? What if it simply doesn’t work anymore?”
I start walking to him, time slowing down.
“But you said that only happens because you are Dracula, also a kind of demon, so,” I whisper as I walk, watching the great Vlad Dracula clasp the rim of his dark sweater and pulling it over his head. I stop in my tracks, my eyes gliding over the incredible picture in front of me.
I stare in shock at his muscular back and the white scars that mar it all over.
“What in the world is that?” I whisper, forgetting what I wanted to say and reaching out, my fingers touching one of the white streaks of flesh. Though no longer raw, red, bleeding or fresh, the scars do scream pain.
Vlad stiffens at my touch, but he doesn’t turn around, allowing me to get a good look at his tortured flesh.
“Did this happen before you became a vampire?” I breathe, tears welling in my eyes and making my voice crack. “When you were still a child?”
“No. I was already big, strong, and a vampire. Those scars are the result of a whip with silver lashes.”
“My God.” I reach out with my other hand as well, following the scars with my fingers.
“He whipped me to the bone.” Vlad turns around. I look up into those wolfish eyes, his features hardened into the cruel expression he wore when I first laid eyes on him. No wonder. This creature has been through hell in more ways than I imagined. “The only supernatural who ever managed to trap and imprison me. The only enemy in this world that I take seriously.”
“Who? Who is he, who is the monster that did this to you?”
He clasps my shoulders with his large palms, leaning in and bringing his face close to mine.
“I can’t tell you that, Ruxandra Len. That’s something not even my brother—your adoptive father—knows about me. If my other enemies would know the creature’s name, they would know who to ally with in order to defeat me once and for all. Besides, he’s hardly more of a monster than I am. But I’m touched by your outrage at my pain.”
I just keep staring at his face, taken with him in a way that I haven’t been with any man, ever. I become starkly aware that I have a crush on the world famous Dracula, and that I’m fucked for it. Because, after having lived so long and surely having had many women, he could never be interested in me.
“If you don’t want to tell,” I whisper, “why do you take your clothes off in front of me?” I try to keep my eyes on his face, but his perfectly shaped pectorals, his abs and the badass muscular arms aren’t lost on me.
“Because I want you to see what silver can do to my flesh.”
He leads me back to the bed, sitting with me on the edge at its foot, the firelight playing on his mind-boggling body. It’s a struggle not to ogle him.
“But I do need to get you up on that mountain, to that silver book in the monks’ altar. In order for me to do all that, I need to be immune to sunlight and silver.”
He keeps looking into my eyes like Dalton did the day we met, as if he expects me to understand something. The puzzled expression on my face must make it clear that I don’t, so he continues.
“Rux, I’m a vampire. My weaknesses are silver and sunlight. But in order to protect you tomorrow, I must be immune to both. First of all, because we would be climbing up the mountain during the day—there’s no way we can get into the monastery at night—and out in the open rocky relief of the mountain peak there will be no shade for me. Secondly, because of all the silver inside that monastery. And you can help me get that immunity.”
“Anything,” I whisper. “Anything you need.”
He nods, looking deeply into my eyes. He angles his body in such a way that we face each other in an intimate way.
“I need your blood, Rux.”
The words hit me in the heart. Here he is, the Prince of Blood, asking for the only thing that could ever interest him from me—my blood. It hurts at first. For one second that feels like an eternity, I want to scream in his face, I ache to throw all the blackness in my eyes at him, but then reason talks to me from somewhere behind all this frustration and rage.
I turn my head from him and stare at the fireplace for a few moments, all too aware of him half naked by my side, and thinking of what it will feel like, him sucking my blood. Will it be like in the Dracula movies, him hypnotizing me and laying me back on the bed, his shiny fangs piercing the thin skin on my throat?
“You know, this situation would count as the very definition of romantic to some women,” I tell him. “The lord of vampires, half naked next to them, asking them nicely for their blood.” I look at him, the beauty of his warrior face striking me right in the heart.
I get up to my feet, placing myself in front of him, and letting him stare up at me. Even so, with him sitting and me standing, I’m only half a head taller, since he’s so large. Slowly, I push the straps of my satin gown off my shoulders, letting the gown drop and pool at my feet.
And behold. I’ve achieved the impossible. Dracula’s jaw drops, the honey in his eyes glinting golden as he stares me up and down.
“Rux, what are you doing?” He wants to get up, but I take one step closer to him, which will force his nose right between my breasts if he goes to stand up.
“I never experienced a man’s kiss, Lord Dracula,” I say seductively, putting a trembling finger on his lips. Oh, those blood-red lips on my skin.... “I have never felt a man’s hands on my breasts. I have yet to feel the thrill of seeing a man’s erection live and know that I’m the cause for his desire.”
“Rux....”
“Please,” I whisper, my cheeks burning with shame and fear of rejection, but fuck it. It’s now or never. “You are the only man that the curse cannot touch. You may be my only hope to ever know the embrace of a man.”
The great Lord Dracula stares at me stricken. “But, what... Rux, are you saying you want me to make love to you?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“For God’s sakes,” he says softly, obviously trying to put out my fire, to appease me. “That would be wrong in many ways. First of all, I’m practically your uncle, since my brother is your adoptive dad. Plus that I’m much older than you. Over six hundred years older.”
“And yet you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” With nothing left to lose, I ogle him openly. “You’re an amazing specimen, and you look younger than many of the guys I’ve dated—or tried to date. You’re surely experienced enough, and you’re the only one the curse can’t touch.”
I brush his long hair off his shoulder, my fingers stroking his hard skin lightly. A thrill goes through him, his eyelids hooding his eyes for a split second, and that gives me confidence—even if only for an instant, he desired me.
“Please, Vlad,” I whisper as I lower my face to his. “See it as an act of compassion, if you like. With the curse attached to me, I may never feel the love of a man. Take my blood, but do it while I come for you, for the first and only lover in my life.”
His eyes fall shut, and he breathes a sigh the moment before our lips touch.
Pleasure swells down between my legs, rising up to my lower belly, and from there to my stomach. I’m pressing my lips on Vlad Dracula’s firm, but carnal and hot mouth, and I cup his face with both hands, enjoying the sensation of his jawline in my palms. I
touch him lightly at first, but then I grow greedy, my hands sliding to the back of his head and sinking in his hair.
He inhales deeply and opens his mouth against mine at the same time I do, our tongues meeting halfway, stroking each other lightly, but soon we can’t resist our hunger anymore.
I straddle him, keeping my mouth locked to his in a ravenous kiss, but then he pulls himself away, his eyes darkening. I slide my arms around his neck, keeping myself close to him, while he stares hard at me with a hunger that seems to border on madness.
“Please, Rux,” he says, his voice strained. I think his cheeks have caught some color, too. “I must ask you to reconsider. You’re a young woman.” His eyes move to my breasts, he moans, and forces himself to look me in the eyes again and speak. “I’m an old creature, a monster. Don’t be fooled by my appearance, it’s made to trick people. To draw them in, to tempt them.” But his huge, raw hands cover the small of my back, contradicting what he says. He wants me closer, just like this, straddling him.
He kneads my back, moving his hands up, pressing my breasts to his body. My lids fall to hood my eyes as I take in the exquisite sensation of his touch, and the concrete waves of his muscles crushing my flesh.
“Oh, Vlad,” I murmur, unable to stop myself, fisting both my hands lovingly in his hair. I start moving over his pants, undulating against the metal buckle of his belt.
His hands keep me plastered to his chest, making it hard for me to keep moving. I’m forced to open my eyes fully and search his. His irises are now as black as mine, burning.
“No, stop. You’re doing this only because you’ve never had a man. You’re not doing this because you want me.”
I love the jealousy in his face and voice, in the way his large hands press possessively on my back. It makes me wet down there, the juice of my excitement smearing the buckle of his belt.