Vlad approached the woman and leaned down to look her, her eyes were shut. Vlad presumed she was dead. Then suddenly the woman’s eyes opened. She clasped Vlad’s wrist and bit down hard. Vlad was amazed but he did not pull away; he let her drink, he needed a companion as well and if it wasn’t to be Isabella, one woman was as good as the next. As she drank she grew younger and a scar that was on her cheek started to smooth and heal before Vlad’s eyes. She was now fully revived and smiled up at Vlad, a nefarious smile. This woman was no innocent creature—blackness and jealousy surrounded her. Vlad led her back to the castle and when she entered she looked around Vlad’s home with enthusiasm. Leila felt she finally was where she belonged in this world.
“Is this to be my home?” she enquired.
“If you want it to be,” Vlad answered. He was truly ambivalent as to whether she stayed or left him.
“I do, I really do,” Leila said with eagerness. Vlad was pleased to see a woman that was enthusiastic about living with him even if he knew she was only enthusiastic about him because of what he could give her.
“How did you know to drink from me?” Vlad asked out of curiosity.
“I had been raised here and in Hungary. I have heard rumours and whispers about Vroloks as long as I can remember. I knew to drink your blood would restore my own life and grant me immortality.”
“So in spite of Isabella’s efforts to the contrary we are still renowned throughout this region.”
“Isabella—who is she?”
“She is the woman who killed you.” Leila’s near constant smile melted away.
“She left me for dead.”
“She did, but never mind, you didn’t die.” Leila kept silent. She was filled with thoughts of revenge and she wanted to kill this woman, but she kept silent. Even after her brief acquaintance with Vlad, she knew he would never let her exact her revenge on the woman who had killed her.
The days passed, still quite slowly for Vlad, but he was finding comfort in this woman’s company. She took pleasure in the kill as Isabella had once done and best of all she did not argue with Vlad; she was there when he wanted her and left him alone when he didn’t. She was a perfect consort for him, but yet she was still not his Isabella and never would be.
Vlad constantly toyed with the idea of chasing after Isabella but he knew it was pointless, but as time went by his longing to see her overcame his will and he couldn’t stand it anymore—he had to find her. He heard a rumour that she had gone back to England and he decided to try and find her there. He eventually tracked her down to an inn in Plymouth. He paid the innkeeper to gain access to her room and when he entered he saw her lying in the arms of the man she had saved. Vlad was devastated, but still he knew enough to know that if there was ever the possible chance of Isabella’s forgiveness he would have to leave this man alone. He left in torment and returned to where he was staying with Leila. He went into his room grasping at a bottle of ale as he walked through the door.
“Did you find her?” Leila asked.
“I did,” Vlad shouted back at her angrily. “What business is it of yours?”
“What has upset you?” Leila asked.
“It is none of your concern what has upset me,” Vlad said, still angry. Leila paused for moment before she replied to him. Vlad by now had finished the bottle he was drinking and went to get another one.
“You have seen her?” Leila asked again.
“I have!” Vlad shouted, throwing the second empty bottle against the wall in frustration. It narrowly missed Leila’s head.
“I take it she was well?” Leila said sarcastically.
“She has taken up with one of her own descendants. It‘s incestuous.”
“The man who killed me?”
“Yes.” Dracula took another drink; he was quickly losing his reason and his self-control.
“Well what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?” Vlad asked taking another drink.
“How are you going to pay her back for her disloyalty?”
“I can’t do anything to him. Unfortunately, Isabella completely overreacts when I kill her acquaintances,” Vlad smiled wryly.
“Not to him, to her?” asked Leila.
Vlad looked over at Leila and waved his bottle of ale in her direction before replying. “I should… I should take the Dhampir’s blood and end her life as she has begged me to do before.” Leila’s was now very interested in Vlad’s drunken rambles- Dhampir’s blood—he had never talked about this before.
“What did you say? Dhampir’s blood, what do you mean?” she asked.
Vlad leapt from where he was sitting and snatched at Leila’s throat. “Why are you asking me so many questions?” Vlad tightened his grip and Leila could feel his strength. It was far greater than her own and he was causing her great pain. She yelped out and begged him to stop. Dracula relinquished his grip on her and she dropped to the floor.
“You disgust me.” said Vlad. “Your constant chattering and asking questions. Do you know what you look like with your fine hair, your pale eyes, your thin lips? I should have let you die. Why can’t you be more like her?” With this Vlad fell back and struck his head on the floor, knocking himself out.
Leila was devastated by Vlad’s cutting speech. She had never been a woman who could tolerate being rejected for another. Her hatred for Isabella was once again confirmed.
Leila searched their lodgings for the blood and she soon found an old ornate dusty bottle. She dabbed her finger into its contents. A sharp pain seared up through her whole hand as if she had dipped her finger in acid. This must be the secret, she thought, and she poured out a little into an empty bottle of ale. She knew enough to know that Vlad would follow her if she took all the contents. Leila left the inn with the intention of never seeing Vlad again; she had had enough of him. The next day she went searching for Isabella. She eventually found her walking with Nicolae, delivering him to the boat to America.
AMERICA, THOU HALF-BROTHER OF THE WORLD
WITH SOMETHING GOOD AND BAD OF EVERY LAND
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Isabella and Simon descended from the ship onto new soil. They had traveled in a state of luxury that Simon had never known. The long sea voyage had resulted in an outbreak of an unexplained illness that left the ship’s doctor baffled. A loss of colour and fatigue were the only symptoms but death was very often the result. As Isabella and Simon walked from the pier onto dry land, ten coffins were being carried after them.
Isabella looked around this strange new world. She was never one to be overly affected by new places, but Simon was in awe. The streets were crowded with people busily attending to their business, not stopping for a moment, everyone in a hurry rushing towards their next destination as if once they got there, the sooner they would be able to start towards the next, for they had not a moment to waste.
Simon was amazed by the place and the sights he saw. He was distracted from the fast moving crowds, by the buildings that lined the outer edges of the streets. They were more than five stories tall and were not narrow like the stone houses and halls of Europe but fat, long and wooden, towering up into the sky. No two buildings were the same; each had its own character and texture. Simon looked ahead of him at the people who had gotten off the ship before him. They seemed to be just disappearing into the crowd; it was as if once you walked off the pier you became an American.
“I think you will need me more than five years,” Simon said.
“What do you mean?” Isabella asked.
“There are literally thousands people in this place.”
“More like hundreds of thousands,” Isabella answered.
“How can we possibly find one man in the vastness of this country?” Simon stated; still trying to get to grips with what his eyes were seeing. Isabella walked towards a young boy heralding the news and asked for a broadsheet. She smiled and showed Simon the headline.
“Death toll reaches one hundred thousand in Civil W
ar.”
“There is where we shall find him, where the fighting is,” Isabella stated.
“Why are you so sure?” Simon asked.
“One thing you have to learn about Vampires, they go where death is.”
Isabella was right; Nicolae was in the thick of the fighting. He had come to America two hundred years before and seen it change before his eyes. This was a country whose short history was steeped in violence, the perfect place for a Vampire. When he arrived it was not long before the French Indian Wars started. He witnessed the implementation of the Stamp Act which made the colonists rise up against the British because of the heavy taxes. The War of Independence soon followed and after America had rid itself of British authority, its people soon turned on their neighbours in the Mexican War. Then finally they turned on each other in the Civil War. Nicolae moved from place to place and war to war, not wanting to stay too long in one vicinity. Isabella had taught him this in their brief acquaintance and her nomadic lifestyle had rubbed off on him. Isabella had told him to go where there was war, famine or disease, places that were steeped in death.
“Who would miss one hundred when thousands are dying?” Isabella had said to him. But even if she hadn’t, Nicolae enjoyed wars and America had had her fair share of them.
Nicolae had fought on all sides. Many years before he had abandoned Isabella’s principals of only killing those who deserved it. He could not read people like Isabella and enjoyed the kill far too much to be bothered to find out who his victims were and whether they deserved the death he was giving them. His own conscience was appeased by the fact that none of his victims suffered, for he did not draw out their deaths. But even if this were not true the sensation that feeding gave him was far too much pleasure. He felt alive when he fed—he felt omnipotent.
Nicolae had stayed alone, not turning to anyone for companionship. Isabella had told him how to infect a human with vampirism but he had chosen not to propagate any Vampires. He wanted to drift with no one following after him and he didn’t want Isabella, if she ever came looking for him to find him with anyone.
Nicolae would stand at night and look out across the wide-open spaces of America, searching the skyline for some sign of Isabella, but she never came, she was never there, not even in the distance.
Even though he had watched for her for two hundred years and had seen no earthly sign of her, he was convinced she was now close. For a year ago something had changed within him. He had always been stronger than he was in life, much stronger and he had selected abilities that no mortal could ever possess. The sun however could burn his skin very quickly and irritated him greatly. He could not expose himself to it at all as his skin would blister and burn, but that had now changed. He could freely walk around in the sunshine. His sight was still impaired, but that was all. His strength had increased as well and he had several new abilities that he had not possessed before. Among them, he could control the weather. When he touched people, if he concentrated, he would get glimpses of their lives. Nicolae thought that this newfound strength and resistance to the rays of the sun must mean that Isabella was close to him. The only time he had seen other people’s thoughts before was when she was with him. He hoped that this meant she was trying to find him. He made his actions as obvious as he possibly could, letting those who knew such things existed be aware of the fact that he was a Vampire.
Nicolae had been involved in every major battle in the Civil War and Gettysburg was no exception. He was travelling with the Confederate Cavalry, eagerly anticipating the next battle. His troops were searching desperately for shoes when they came across a hub of union soldiers. A battle broke out and it was the most feral one in which Nicolae had been involved. The night after the first day of fighting Nicolae walked through the campsite; he was looking for his next victim. He headed towards the makeshift hospital. The smell of death engulfed the tent, Nicolae smiled; he knew there would be plenty to curb his appetite, judging by the screams of the soldiers. Some might even be willing victims. Nicolae crept in under cover of darkness and meandered in-between the victims, drinking his fill. He had become a merciless killer and little did he know Isabella was watching him.
“He is killing everyone,” Simon stated. Isabella and Simon were watching Nicolae fight in the continuing battle the next day.
“He is, isn’t he?” Isabella said; she was pleased by his insatiable appetite.
“You approve?” Simon asked.
“I most certainly do. Remember, you are consorting with Vampires, Simon. Your human morality has no place here.”
“I know, but he kills with such savagery; you are more humane.” Simon said, trying to convince himself that this was true.
“Humane, that is one thing I certainly am not. Don‘t be fooled Simon, I am worse than him.” Isabella turned towards Simon to face him. “Much worse,” she emphasized. Isabella’s words were so chilling Simon broke out into a cold sweat. He was suddenly reminded of what sort of a creature Isabella was. They both turned back towards the fighting and continued to watch the brutal scene.
Nicolae was running from union soldier to union soldier, slashing them with his sabre and catching the body before it had time to fall to the ground, drinking as much blood as he could before anyone noticed him. His face and Confederate uniform were soaked through with blood. The field was filled with smoke from the explosions of the cannon. The echoing bangs of gunfire were heard in every corner. A stray bullet struck Nicolae, it only managed to knock him off his feet and in seconds he was standing again. A few more seconds passed by and he was killing again. Isabella watched with pride. His blood lust was even greater than her own used to be; he was perfect, she thought.
“He will suit fine for my purposes,” Isabella smiled again. “Come on, we have seen enough.” Isabella waited for the battle to be over and then approached Nicolae.
Nicolae had walked away from the field exhausted and drenched in blood. He approached a lake, stripped off his blood-soaked uniform and dived in. He swam underneath the surface, not needing to come up for air. He swam through the clear water cleaning the blood from his body that he hadn’t managed to consume. Nicolae ultimately brought his head back above the water; he had not seen her, yet. Isabella was sitting on a tree stump behind him.
“You have forgotten everything I taught you,” Isabella scolded. Nicolae did not turn around completely; he merely turned his head slightly in the direction of the voice. Nicolae smiled, he knew who the voice belonged to.
“I knew you were here,” Nicolae answered.
“You did?”
“I could sense you,” Nicolae answered.
“You could?” Isabella smiled. “I don’t know that I approve of your method of killing. It was so open, not exactly inconspicuous.”
“Do you realise how long I have been waiting for you?” Nicolae stated ignoring Isabella’s meagre attempt at chastising him.
“Two hundred years,” Isabella answered. Nicolae now turned towards her. He wanted to look upon her unchanged face. He climbed out of the water and Isabella tossed him a fresh uniform. “It was a Union Uniform. “I am presuming you do not care what uniform you have on,” Isabella continued.
“You presume right.”
“I thought so,” Isabella said, shaking her head, feigning exasperation with her young protégé.
“What about you, still only killing those who deserve it?” Nicolae asked as he was getting dressed.
“No, I have reverted to my former wicked self,” Isabella smiled. It was as if they had never been apart.
“What made you revert to your old ways?”
“I will explain everything, but not tonight.” The pair left the battlefield arm and arm. Nicolae believed only death would ever separate them again.
Isabella had found her Nicolae in America, Simon was no longer needed and Isabella was happy to send him back to his family. His debt and their debt had now been paid in full.
Simon awoke to an empty room, free from Vampires.
On his bedside table was a letter from Isabella with an envelope beside it. A train ticket and a ticket for the ship journey home were both in the envelope, along with several bank notes totaling a thousand pounds. Isabella had taught Simon how to read; she had joked that no husband of hers was going to be illiterate. Simon had been more than keen to learn, as it was something he could pass on to his children. Simon impatiently started to read the letter.
“Simon,” it began. “As you know I have found the person I came here to find. Your debt to me has been paid. I thank you for your companionship and you can travel home to your family with no fear of any Vrolok threat ever again. I promise you that neither I nor any of my kind will ever harm you or any member of your family. When you get home, look for a blue ring of fire and dig up the box underneath the ground, the money you find in it is your second reward. Take it with you, with my gratitude. Look after your family, Simon, and have a good life.”
Simon read the letter with just a little sadness in his heart; he had grown to admire Isabella. She had treated him with nothing but respect. He had to often remind himself that she was a killer. Now she had made it possible for him to return to the Carpathians with money, pride and honour. He would have a good life and he swore to honour her memory and if she ever called on him again, he would willingly help her, no matter what she asked.
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