Up ahead, the jagged iron gates of the fortress slowly screeched upwards, but no one came out. I pulled back on the reins of my horse, bringing him to a complete stop, and scanned the courtyard that lay behind the gates. Thick fog encased the courtyard, and after several long moments that seemed suspended in time, a small group of figures emerged like apparitions through the fog.
Vampires clamored out of the gatehouse and down the path of the barbican, their fangs bared in fierce snarls.
I recognized one of them. It was Matyas, the vampire in Budapest who had refused to join us. Rage and panic flared in my chest at the sight of him. If he was on Vlad’s side, he must have told him of our plan.
I acted quickly, steering my horse around and clamoring back down the steep incline. The vampires’ horses were getting closer, and I could almost feel the hatred radiating from the vampires as they raced after me. I kept my focus on the path downhill, my heart in my throat as I leaned forward to kick the sides of my horse, urging him to gallop even faster.
But soon one of the vampire’s horses closed in on me, until we were parallel. Panic coursed through me, but I kept my gaze straight ahead. I reached for the knife tucked in my bodice, but a strong arm snaked around my waist from the side, yanking me from my horse and tossing the knife from my hand.
I screamed, struggling in my captor’s arms as my horse continued to clamor down the mountain. I twisted my head around to see Matyas’ icy eyes, his grip tightening around my waist. The wolfsbane tucked in my dress and wound throughout my hair clearly had no effect on him, as he reached into my bodice and my hair to toss it aside while I fruitlessly struggled to release myself from his vise-like grip. He steered his horse back towards the fortress, the other vampires continuing their progress down the mountain, and I realized with horror that they must know that others were waiting.
Beneath my fear, a wave of overwhelming despair swelled. I had failed before our plan had a chance to unfold, and my failure would lead to even more deaths. I could not stifle the strangled sob that escaped my throat, making one last desperate attempt to yank free of Matyas’ grip.
“Keep struggling and your death will not be quick,” he hissed, his lips cold against my ear. “I can keep you alive for days . . . as we did your mother.”
I froze in shock, my eyes filling with horrified tears. Had Matyas been one of the vampires who had tortured and killed my mother? I recalled the brief flare of recognition in his eyes when he saw me in Budapest, and rage seized me.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked, forcing myself to speak through a maelstrom of panic and fury. I needed to push past my unstable emotions and focus. I still had my kukri knives and the stake; I prayed that he did not find and remove them. There was still a chance of getting away, but I needed to keep him distracted. “Radu trusted you.”
“Radu is a fool. He refuses to see what is certain to come,” Matyas spat. “As are you. We are too powerful and too great to be defeated—as your ancestors learned.”
His grip remained firm as his horse clamored the remaining way up the mountain path and through the gatehouse.
The fog had dissipated, and I could see that the inner courtyard, which may have been stunning centuries ago, was now in a state of decay. The stone paving on the ground was cracked and disintegrating; the central gardens had grown wild with long-dead plants. The keep and surrounding buildings consisted of decaying grey stones; their windows grimy with both dust and age. The entire castle seemed heavy with the feel and stench of death.
A terrified young man stepped forward to take the horse when we clattered into the courtyard, keeping his gaze lowered out of either respect or terror, though I suspected it was the latter. Matyas leapt off the horse, taking me with him as he forcefully dragged me towards the keep by my neck, his grip bruising and firm. I managed to keep my arms close against my sides, praying that neither of my weapons would slip out.
Scores of vampires crept out of the surrounding buildings as Matyas dragged me through the courtyard, like vultures gathering around dying prey. Many of them had the same look of the ferals we had encountered, with unnatural red or black eyes and empty stares; others looked eerily human, the only telltale sign of vampirism their pale, colorless skin or their lips flushed with blood. They all trained their cold gazes on me as Matyas continued to drag me forward, and I heard some hiss Ghyslaine as we went by. They could easily tear me apart, and I could tell by the hunger in their eyes that they longed to. Matyas’ grip on me seemed to signal to them that I was forbidden. For now.
We arrived at the entrance of the keep and the doors were swung open from the inside by another human, this one a frail woman who also kept her eyes lowered, and I could see that she was practically quaking with trepidation.
I looked around as Matyas yanked me inside. We were in a massive central foyer that had the same sense of decay as the exterior. The four winding staircases that led to the upper floors and towers were crumbling, the stone walls decrepit with age and neglect. He led me through another set of doors, opened by another trembling woman, and we were now in what must have once been a great hall, with intricate stained glass windows, ornate high vaulted ceilings, and a long wooden table in the center that nearly spanned the entire hall.
I barely noticed the decor of the room as Matyas tossed me to the floor. I fell to my knees, my loosened hair falling over my face, barely managing to keep my weapons from sliding out of my sleeves. I hastily shoved my hair out of my eyes, going still when I saw who stood before me.
It was the tall dark man and the beautiful golden-haired woman I recognized from the Langham, who I now knew were Vlad and Ilona. Standing next to Ilona, her arm wrapped proprietarily around his waist . . . was Jonathan. My Jonathan.
He looked both familiar and strange. He still wore the fine shirt and trousers he had worn to the ball. But he was now pale, his lips colorless, the usually warm hazel eyes foggy and unfocused. He was thinner, and barely seemed able to hold himself upright, leaning heavily on Ilona for support. But most disconcertingly, he studied me without a trace of recognition, only a mild curiosity.
Oh God, I thought in a panic. What have they done to you?
“Jonathan,” I whispered, focusing only on him and not the monsters who surrounded him. “Jonathan, it’s me, Mina. Are you all—”
“He is no longer your love,” Ilona hissed, her brilliant green eyes glittering with fury. Her voice was light and melodious, and even tinged with rage it possessed an air of seduction. “It was foolish for you to come here, Wilhelmina.”
“Matyas tells me you intend to destroy us,” Vlad said, his cold dark eyes trained on me, as Matyas stepped forward to join them. His voice was older than his appearance, oddly hypnotic and rich, filling the large hall with its volume, and I recognized it from Westminster Bridge. His was a voice and a presence that was used to command. “But you and the Order are far too late to stop us. My loyal followers all over Europe are ready to strike. We will soon be at our rightful place in the world.”
An ominous chill crept through me as I recalled Abe’s fateful words in London. Strange murders all over Europe, he had said. Berlin. Paris. Amsterdam. Was Vlad right? Were we too late? Would Europe inevitably fall to these monsters?
Once again, I forced myself to focus. I carefully angled my arm so that the hilt of one of my kukri knives rested at the base of my palm. One quick and well-aimed throw and I could lodge it into Vlad’s heart; but the others would instantly be on me, and I would be dead.
Where were the others? Had Abe and the human villagers been found out? Had the group of vampires with Matyas already slaughtered Radu and the others? If I was truly on my own, I had no chance of escape.
“Why did you come here?” Ilona demanded. “Jonathan is lost to you now. He will soon be one of us. Humans have had their time. It is time for a new world.”
“You’re mad,” I whispered, trying not to panic at her words about Jonathan, as I subtly dislodged the kukri from my sleeve. If
I could move quickly enough, perhaps I could distract them by injuring Vlad before grabbing Jonathan. It was a large fortress with plenty of places to hide until the others—if they were still alive—came to my defense. “Humans outnumber your kind,” I continued, gripping the hilt in my hand. “You all will be killed en masse if you even attempt to—”
“Your mother spoke similar words,” Matyas interjected with a cold sneer. “Do you know how she died? Screaming in agony.”
“As did your father,” Vlad added, infuriatingly casual. “How appropriate that their meddling daughter will die in the same manner.”
Rage flooded through my entire body, only this time I made no effort to quell it. My hand was on the hilt of my kukri as I leapt to my feet, swinging it out in an arc towards Vlad. Vlad caught the blade in his hand with ease, his palm going crimson with blood as he clutched it, tossing it to the ground.
And I was instantly airborne, hurled back against the far wall and paralyzed as he put me into a thrall. In a movement so fast that I could not track it with my naked eye, he was instantly before me, his black eyes burning as he wrapped one large hand around my throat and began to squeeze.
7
Escape
Vlad’s eyes were shut as his hands squeezed the air from my throat. I was unable to release myself from the thrall. I weakly raised my eyes to meet Jonathan’s disoriented ones across the room, hoping to somehow reach him, to penetrate the fog. I thought I glimpsed a small flicker of recognition in his eyes, but soon his face was gone as my vision began to dim, and I knew that I was only seconds away from losing consciousness.
I have failed you, Jonathan. I am so sorry, I thought, as the world around me began to fade.
But I was abruptly released, sliding to the cold floor, coughing and grasping at my throat as I took in great gulps of air.
My vision cleared and I looked up to see that Radu, Szabina, Gabriel, and the others had charged into the great hall, with Vlad’s followers right on their heels.
Radu had been the one to release me from Vlad’s grip, and his hand was now wound around his son’s throat as he lifted him bodily into the air, his eyes filled with hot fury.
“This ends today, Alexandru,” he roared, hurling his son over the massive wooden table to the far wall with a force so great that it cracked upon his impact.
Radu leapt across the table, temporarily airborne before landing opposite his son, who had stumbled weakly to his feet, and they began to fight in a flurry of impossibly fast moves.
Szabina raced toward Matyas, who had backed up fearfully upon their entrance. She looked more terrifying than I had ever seen her; her eyes wild, her fangs exposed.
“Traitor!” she screamed, tackling Matyas to the floor.
The great hall descended into chaos as Vlad’s followers and our vampire allies began to fight; tearing into each other’s flesh with their hands and fangs, snapping necks, hurling bodies across the room; their movements as rapid as a hummingbird’s wings.
In the melee, I temporarily lost track of Ilona and Jonathan as I stumbled to my feet, still gasping for air. But I soon found them. Ilona was dragging the still dazed Jonathan out of the rear exit of the hall. Gabriel rushed to my side, helping me the rest of the way up as he placed my kukri in my hands.
“I’m all right,” I said quickly, my eyes still trained on the rear doors, where Ilona and Jonathan had disappeared. “I’m going after Jonathan and Ilona. They’ve done something to him.”
Gabriel nodded, gripping my arm to lead me out of the hall, but I stopped him.
“Matyas,” I said, biting out the name with fury. I gestured to the center of the hall, where Szabina and Matyas stood fighting on top of the table. “He killed our mother.”
Gabriel’s silver eyes darkened with rage at my words, his grip going slack on my arm.
“I have my weapons. You can find me,” I said, moving away from him. I could see Gabriel’s hesitation, torn between his need to protect me, and his desire to avenge our mother. His rage seemed to win the battle, and he gave me an affirming nod before charging towards Szabina and Matyas.
I tore around the table and towards the exit, but a towering, wild-eyed male vampire I recognized as one of the vampires from the courtyard suddenly appeared before me and grabbed me by my neck, slamming me backwards against the table. My body reeled in agony at the painful impact, and the vampire leaned down, his fangs exposed, sinking them into my throat. I cried out at the sharp searing pain of his teeth in my flesh but managed to arch backwards, using my free hand to lodge my kukri into his back. He snarled with pain, removing his teeth from my neck as he did so, and I used the opportunity to kick him off of me as I sank my kukri into his heart. He sank to the floor, his cold hands over mine in a futile attempt to release my blade, but I held firm, even as his dark red blood flowed over my hands and his eyes fluttered shut.
I yanked out my blade and pushed past the blur of fighting bodies as I continued heading towards the door. Another vampire grabbed me from behind, but this time I managed to whirl out of her grip, continuing my desperate flight towards the door.
A hulking male vampire seemed to sense my intent and moved to stand in front of the door, his red eyes trained on mine in open challenge. My urgency to get to Jonathan was so great that I felt no fear as I charged towards him, only resolve, and when the vampire charged towards me with a snarl, I was ready.
My stake was already out, and as soon as he was a breath away, I staked him clean through his heart. As he stiffened and howled in pain, I arched my kukri towards his throat, slicing his head clear from his body, his crimson blood splattering across my face and my dress.
I kept moving, darting over his headless body towards the door, racing into the corridor just outside the hall.
The corridor was empty, and I allowed myself a moment to clutch the wall and take several deep breaths, wiping the slick blood off of my face with trembling hands. When I looked up, I caught a brief glimpse of Ilona and Jonathan’s retreating forms as she dragged him up a winding staircase at the far end of the corridor.
I tore after them. When I reached the base of the staircase, I glanced up. The stairs seemed to twist and wind upwards indefinitely, leading to the apex of one of the towers, and I could hear their footsteps as they ascended.
Hiking up my skirt, I charged up the stairs. But when I reached the second curve, I was hurled against the crumbling stone wall of the tower, paralyzed.
A group of ferals scrambled towards me from the base of the stairs, their eyes blazing with eagerness and hunger as they approached. Near hysteria filled me at the sight of them, and I struggled to remain calm, searching the group for the vampire who held the thrall. My gaze landed on a stocky male vampire with a shock of ash blonde hair. He was in the very front of the group and appeared to lead the rest. His black eyes were trained on mine, his lips curled back in a snarl.
I stood in the center of a village that had been burned to the ground. Despair swept over me as I sank to my knees and wept. I felt a cold presence approach, and looked up to see a dark figure approach, opening its mouth to reveal a sharp pair of fangs.
I was released from the hold as the vampire stumbled back, looking dazed and disoriented; but the other vampires continued to charge towards me.
I turned to continue racing up the stairs, but they were close on my heels, and a feral launched herself at me from behind, tackling me down to one of the steps. She yanked my head back and I screamed as she slurped eagerly at my still bleeding neck wound, her rail-thin arms keeping me pinned to the steps with inhuman strength. My stake and kukri had slipped from my grip, and I could only watch helplessly as the other ferals surrounded us on the narrow staircase, eagerly awaiting their turn to feast.
“Hakeel ishta mi,” a voice hissed from further down the stairs.
The feral stiffened and instantly lifted her bloodstained fangs from my throat, turning towards the source of the voice. The ferals who surrounded us followed her gaze.
“Mina,” Abe said quietly, his eyes also trained on the ferals. I could tell that he was trying to appear calm, but his voice quavered. “Anara will distract them. Move away from them, slowly.”
Anara’s eyes did not shift from the vampires, and they remained as still as statues.
I cautiously sat up, reaching behind me to pick up my weapons. I gingerly got to my feet, gripping both the kukri and stake should they come out of their daze and strike, but they remained perfectly still as I crept backwards up the stairs.
Anara gave Abe a small nod, keeping her focus on the ferals, and he edged around Anara to creep up the stairs, his face white with terror as he brushed past the immobile ferals and reached my side.
We turned and continued to race up the stairs. I cast one last glance back down towards Anara and the ferals as we ran, surprised that she had saved my life and wondering how she was able to control them.
“Anara was one of the vampires who freed us and the other prisoners,” Abe said, panting as we darted up the stairs. “She did that same trick on our vampire guards. When we came up from the dungeons, Gabriel pulled us aside and told us where you were. I am so very relieved that we found you.”
“Ilona has Jonathan,” I said, my words coming out in short gasps as we ran. I could see the top of the tower now, only fifty steps away. “I don’t think he’s been changed yet. But something’s terribly wrong. They’ve done something to him.”
We reached the top of the stairs where a small narrow corridor led to a chamber door at the far end. The door was partially open, and I could see the shadow of two figures inside.
The Mina Murray Series Bundle, A Dracula Retelling: Books 1-3 Page 23