Dating Dracula, Jr

by Minda Webber

  Debbs kicked hard and got one leg free. She couldn’t risk her flame thrower unless she wanted to burn her own feet off, a definite no-no. Another scream of pain and one of rage rang out not too far from us. It had to be Jason, and the way he had cried out broke my heart. The ghouls must have him.

  Hart was suddenly by my side and shoving me away from Debbs. “I’ll go get her, I’m bigger. See if you can help Jason.”

  I wanted to argue, I even opened my mouth, but he was right. He was bigger and could drag the ghoul off better than I could. He also had a bad crush on Debbs and would die trying to save her. Feeling guilty and stupid I ran off in the direction I thought I heard the sound of Jason’s cry. I hoped it wasn’t his last.

  Again I heard the sound of a ghoul crowing in delight and ran harder in the direction I thought the sound was coming from. Shadows surrounded me, menacing and thick. I thought my heart would burst. Fear was like a sickness in me. What would I find?

  With Holy water in hand I made a sharp curve around a large oak tree and tripped, my head crashing down into the dried leaves of autumn and earth. I went down hard and felt my teeth bite my tongue. I tasted blood and dirt. I tasted fear as I felt something trap me, something coming down hard and pinning my arm.

  This couldn’t be happening. I was too sweet to be eaten alive! I panicked and in my panic the Holy water spilled. My hand, slippery with sweat, lost its dicey grip on the container. “No!” I had lost my last weapon against the ghouls that I could reach. I waited tensely for the bite.

  The tearing of my flesh.

  The splashing of my blood.

  Fear filled my mouth. Strange, but it tasted metallic.

  I waited, tears beginning to slip down my cheeks.

  And I waited. The ghoul chasing me must be the stupidest man alive, well not alive anymore. So the ghoul must be the stupidest dead man in the cemetery, because nothing happened. Finally my heart slowed down a bit and my brain, foggy with terror, started to think again.

  I pushed the terror back and glanced down to see my arm was pinned by a large black tombstone. I must have tripped over it and somehow knocked it over. It was the tombstone that had pinned my arm to the cold, hard ground and not a member of the corpse brigade.

  Terrified, I yanked at the headstone trying to free my arm, conscious of the fact that time had seemed to slow down and everything was in slow motion. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear the screams of ghouls dying and those hurting, their groans and cries unearthly. One was near me. I could hear it dragging its leg through the dry foliage and the groans it was making.

  With my free arm I began to search for something to hit the ghoul with when it came in to attack me. This one didn’t seem to be stupid since it was gradually making its way directly towards me.

  My searching fingers found a large stone and clasped it tightly. Waiting. I didn’t have to wait long. I had gone beyond fear and terror into a black void of nothing. All I could manage to do was hold on to the stone and strike when the moment was right. I had one chance to survive and that was to crack open the skull of the ghoul and keep attacking it until it lay crushed beneath me. It was a slim chance. Oddly, I understood that in some sort of detached way.

  The ghoul, when he came, was everything that was in my worst nightmares. His mouth was huge and red and his eyes were wild. He was tall, over six feet and had long wild hair and long dirty claws. He was one of the fresher ghouls with his flesh peeling very little.

  I whimpered in fear and then I yelled for courage. The courage of the Frankenstein’s who had been attacked by villagers with large burning torches. Frankensteins who had been hunted, hounded and yes, even laughed at-the idiots.

  “No!” I hefted the stone as high as I could from my prone position as the ghoul leapt at me. I imagined him tearing into flesh. I could hear the ripping of tissues and then muscles. I closed my eyes and struck.

  I struck nothing.

  When I opened my eyes it was to see the young vampire whose grave we had rudely opened, tearing the ghoul apart with his bare hands. I hadn’t given the vampire a second thought since our wild flight through the cemetery to save our lives.

  “Great,” I mumbled. I wasn’t going to be eaten to death by a ghoul, no, just sucked dry. And, frankly, that sucked to be so near rescue and so far away.

  Still grasping the rock I watched as the vampire tore off the ghoul’s head and tossed it aside like it was a Kleenex. He then stepped towards me and he extended his hand to me.

  “Come with me, if you want to live.” His voice was smoky and he was a Terminator fan. What the heck. He was the fresh undead. He was a good-looking vampire with a fierce first-awakening blood-lust. We were in a cemetery at night and I have been told I have a pretty neck. I should run for the hills, or actually the parking lot, but the vamp knew his Terminator quotes.

  And so did I. My dad loved the Terminator movies. We watched them every year. The family sitting around in the den, eating popcorn, talking grave shop and watching Arnold. The vamp smiled, I couldn’t help but trust him. I raised my hand and he lifted me up like I was a sack of gumdrops.

  “I need to check on my friends,” I said quickly.

  “There’s no need. They’re almost at the gates and a car is just starting up,” he said as he listened to something I couldn’t quite hear.

  “Who are you? How come you didn’t bite me and bleed me to death?” He was freshly dead, he should be ravenous and biting. I know, ghouls are running around everywhere trying to eat me and I play twenty questions. What can I say? Curiosity is the ever-present sin of a Frankenstein.

  “Dagan Dracula Jr.,” he replied as he glanced at me, taking in my long red hair, which hung in a single thick braid below my waist. I’ve always thought it my best feature. I’m not a beautiful girl, but I am extremely cute. Of course, I could do without the freckles.

  He reached for the braid; then seemed to think better of it as the howling of two ghouls sounded close by. Instead, he grabbed me around the waist and we ran. And I do mean ran, I don’t think my feet hit the ground much. We outdistanced the last of the ghouls and made tracks to the black CRV.

  Jason was in the front seat, gunning the motor. His sleeve was ripped and I could see the ghoul bite oozing. Debbs had already poured Holy water over it and tied it off at the top. He’d have to have the bite lanced in the morning to let the rest of the poison out. He opened his mouth to speak but Debbs beat him to it. “What are you doing with him?” She reached in her pocket and quicker than a flash had the stake out.

  “Don’t. He saved my life.” I shoved him into the back seat next to where Hart sat. I hopped in and slammed the door shut as Jason gunned the engine and took his foot off the brake. We shot out of the cemetery like bats out of hell or something to that effect. I might have gotten whiplash, but I was too busy protecting the big bad vampire to notice. Am I bad?

  Debbs turned around in the car and glared at me. “He’s a fresh vampire. Did you let him drink your blood?” Then realizing what she had just said, she shook her head knowing that a fresh vampire didn’t stop drinking until he drained his victim dry. They had to be taught to stick to the vampire diet, kind of like the South Beach Diet, but with blood.

  “What can I say, he hasn’t drunk. I know it’s wacked,” I replied as I looked over at our young vampire. He was still gorgeous, his hair was in a long ponytail which reached about two inches past his collar bone and he looked hungry. Before Debbs could argue the point, I added with hint of exasperation,

  “Debbs, Jason Jekyll, and Hart Hyde meet Dagan.”

  Jason turned his attention from driving to give me a dirty look. “What, you making him a member of our group? I mean V.J., I know you think he’s cute and all that, but come on now, you know what he is. He’s newly undead. What’s with you bringing him with us? He’s in close quarters. He could attack any one of us at any time. It’s bogus enough that I got bit by a ghoul! Now, you want me to be vampire dinner!” He spat the last o
ut, his voice filled with resentment; yet, as he glanced in the back seat, he had his poker face on, revealing nothing. Then in a mocking voice he snapped, “This is lame, V.J. I thought you knew what you were doing. Let’s go to the cemetery, rob a grave, get a mascot. Yeah, right! Why’d I even listen to another of your mad adventures?”

  Jason was really angry and I didn’t care one little itty bitty bit. “Yes, this is Dagan.” I acted like I hadn’t even heard Jason. “Dracula.” We hadn’t gotten just any old vampire that was young. No, we’d gotten the royal flush of vampires-Dracula’s grandson. Not his vampire grandson, but his human grandson. I remembered my dad telling me about him. This time as my dad, Victor, would say, I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

  Did I mention that I’d been having a run of bad luck ever since I’d broken a small bathroom mirror over my little brother’s head. That sounds really vicious, but you have to remember that my little brother is really a little literal monster, with a hard head and a knack for doing things to irritate me. I hit him because he had videoed me in my shower. Not that I don’t have a really cute figure. I mean, I’m a cheerleader when I’m not hanging out in cemeteries with my friends. But I have this thing about my butt. I think it’s heart shaped, and little Frankie (my dad is really bad with names) filmed me totally from the back with the exception of the shot he got of my breasts just before I slapped him with the mirror.

  I didn’t mean for the glass to break, but it did. I got grounded and seven stitches and he got an ice cream cone because of the knot on his head. The stupid nurse didn’t know that the knot was just part of his normal, abnormal face.

  So, a broken mirror and seven stitches later my mom drove us home from the emergency clinic And as I got out of the car I stepped on the shovel Frankie had been playing with,. Of course, it hit me in the head, gashing it. I went back to the emergency room to end up with five stitches in my forehead.

  What can I say, but I ‘m starting to get suspicious that I’m related to Hart Hyde with his accident-prone adventures. The scars really shouldn’t bother me, but I’ve always felt rather special since I’m one of the few in my family that isn’t covered in scars. Reanimating corpses and grave-robbing is a dangerous business. The TV shows always say it’s lobster fishermen who have the most dangerous jobs. Ha! What fisherman has to worry about getting his head ripped off by a mad zombie, being chowed down on by a nasty, stinky ghoul or throat torn out by a barracuda vampire?

  Dagan smiled at everyone., his fangs flashing slightly. “Yes, I’m Dagan Dracula.”

  “Dracula?” Debbs practically whispered the name.

  “Oh yeah,” I added still staring at him. Did I mention he was a real hottie, almost beautiful, but not feminine-like.

  “Dracula?” Jason shouted from the driver’s seat. “You got us Dracula for a mascot!”

  “Sweet,” Hart said, ignoring the bitterness in his cousin’s words.

  “He’s no mascot and you know it.” I glared at the back of Jason’s head.

  “Call me Dagan,” Dagan Dracula replied, like it was just any plain old ordinary night without any flesh-eating ghouls attacking or vampire royalty riding to the rescue.

  I was impressed and that’s hard to do for a Frankenstein. And you could call me in love a little. So he was a vampire with big fangs. So his family were the bogeymen of vampires. I never expected perfect in any boyfriend, at least not after I’d dated them a month or so.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Okay, you can’t drop a bombshell like Dracula’s grandson has just saved your life and is sitting in the backseat of your ex-boyfriend’s CRV and expect nothing to happen and everyone to keep their mouth shut. Especially not with my motley crew.

  “I’m hungry,” Hart said as he glanced sideways at the vampire prince sitting beside him. He didn’t seem that bothered that the freshly dead vamp royalty could attack quicker than you can say “Boo.” But Hart was a trusting soul. I thought it was the best part of his personality; Debbs thought it was the worst.

  “Me too,” Dagan said mildly as he smiled and winked at me.

  Debbs leaned over the seat with stake in hand. “I don’t think that’s funny.”

  I rolled my eyes. Debbs could be way too serious at times. But it comes with the Van Helsing territory of never trusting anything that has a bigger bite than you do to get too close to your neck or other parts. They didn’t even keep dogs for pets, just cats.

  I didn’t want to argue with Debbs, who was also in Debate. She could debate a person to a standstill and still attack with vigor. Just like she did with stakes and spider traps.

  “If Dagan was going to attack us, Debbs, he’d already have done it. He could have easily taken me in the cemetery and drained me dry. I was trapped and fixing to be ghoul roast beef.”

  She eyed me strangely and shook her head, but she did lower the stake as she spoke to him. “Just what were you doing in the cemetery anyway? You’re royalty? Why were you alone? Where’s your grandfather?”

  I almost laughed. Debbs was spitting out questions like she was on Jeopardy or a bad detective show.

  Dagan looked as amused as I did for a moment, and then frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” She asked her voice filled with disbelief as Jason butted in.

  “Why am I not surprised. Maybe he’s just a poser, I mean, come on, what are the odds that we’d hit pay dirt with a Dracula in a grave?”

  Debbs and I both look at Jason at exactly the same time and give him the get real look. Vampire royalty did have that certain kind of look about them. It would also explain why a fresh vampire could come out of his grave and not drain us all dry. Royalty had more control over blood-lust. It had something to do with the bloodline, no pun intended.

  “All right, all right,” Jason snapped less than graciously as he rubbed the ghoul bite on his shoulder. Frowning, he turned to me and asked, “Look, we’ve got a lot at stake here. He’s bad to the blood.”

  “You don’t know that,” I snapped. “Give him a chance to explain.”

  “All right,” Jason replied coldly. “But there’s something I need to know right now. Where are we going? I don’t have all night, you know.” It was a good question for a driver.

  “Taco Bueno,” Debbs said, seconded by Hart.

  Jason nodded, his features half-hidden in the shadows of the driver’s seat as he turned his attention back to driving still messing with his arm.

  Dracula’s grandson looked disappointed.

  “Mexican food first,” I said diplomatically. I wasn’t about to let Debbs and Hart miss their meal. Debbs could get really cranky when she was hungry and Hart would just sit and mope until you fed the big guy. I looked back at Dagan. “We can get you some blood from the Rest and Rise in Peace Funeral Home.”

  “Why are we going there?” Hart asked.

  “I hurt. I want to go home,” Jason said.

  “Can you hold on for a while? I mean you’re a tough guy; you’ve done it before,” I said, appealing to his macho side.

  “Why?” Jason asked, his tone cold. “I hurt and I don’t want to go to a funeral home unless it’s that important.”

  “My grave robbing informant lied to me. We were attacked by ghouls raised by black magic and I want to know why,” I answered, as my eyes narrowed with anger. I didn’t like being lied to about anything. But I especially didn’t like being lied to when it threatened my life and those of my friends. “It’s too late for my informant to be there tonight. But I want to get her schedule for tomorrow and I want to know why Dracula’s grandson was in that graveyard, undead and buried all alone. Vampire royalty doesn’t leave their princes to wake up as easy pickings for stakers, ghouls or werewolves.”

  “Yeah. Something’s rotten in San Antonio. Dracula would never do that,” Debbs agreed thoughtfully. “I also didn’t like the way those ghouls attacked. It wasn’t anywhere near midnight and they came in force all at once. Usually, you get three or four and then a steady stream as th
ey rise. But these guys had already risen and I could swear I’ve never felt stronger black magic in the air.”

  “Yeah, black magic,” Jason answered as he made a left on Nacogdoches Street.

  “The air stunk with it,” Dagan said as he watched Debbs and the stake she was toying with.

  “You smelled it?” I asked. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Vampires were good at knowing about magic of all kinds-something about their undead senses being stronger than humans’. Besides, black magic often left a faint smell of sulfur in the air.

  “Yes. Someone was waiting for you guys to dig me up,” Dagan replied, his face thoughtful as he turned his attention back to me.

  Boy, were his eyes blue, the color of dark pure waters far north, where ice and snow reigned supreme. I’d never seen eyes that color before and he had the sweetest smile that made me want to smile back-or worse-hold his hand.

  “Did you get killed here in San Antonio? I didn’t know vampire royalty was around this part of Texas,” Hart said to Dagan.

  He shook his head. “I died in upstate New York and was supposed to be shipped to San Angelo.”

  “San Angelo?” Both Debbs and Jason blurted it out.

  “Vampire royalty shipped to San Angelo. Who’d have thought? I thought the Prince of Darkness lived in Romania or England when it suited him.” I was interested and wanted to know everything I could about him, even though he really wasn’t boyfriend material.

  “My grandfather does, but I have a great, great uncle who lives in San Angelo,” Dagan answered warily, then grew quiet. Believe me, when the undead go quiet, you could hear the tiniest pin in the world drop. They are the princes of quietness.

  “You think they mixed up the directions and sent you to San Antonio instead of San Angelo?” Hart wanted to know. But I knew better. There was no mix-up in his burial, just a plot. No pun intended. But what the plot was and how it affected my crew, I didn’t have a clue.

  “No,” Debbs answered as Jason pulled up to the Taco Bueno drive-in and stopped in front of the menu board. Everyone quit talking about Dracula’s grandson for the moment and focused on their orders.