It worried her that she could not discern Leila from the multitude of humans who surrounded her, but she would not think about that now; her thoughts turned to what Leila possessed. She had to know if there was any more of the Dhampir’s blood. Joseph had told her he had destroyed the rest of it, but Isabella wanted to be sure that Leila had not escaped with any of it. Isabella waited for Leila to leave and then she went into the house. Leila had obviously lived there a long time. There were no mirrors in the house and no candles for light. In the wardrobe there were clothes of all different sizes. Obviously they had been stolen. Isabella searched the house completely, and she found no trace of the Dhampir’s blood. She had now confirmed what she had already suspected, that Leila had none left or else she would have already tried to kill Isabella again. Isabella wanted to confront Leila, so she waited for her to return.
She waited for hours, but still there was no sign of Leila. The sun rose, set and rose again the following day and still Leila did not appear. Isabella decided to leave; Leila was obviously was not coming back here. As she left her reflections turned to Vilem; she wanted to make sure he was safely home. Isabella began to walk the path that led her to her old village.
As the night fell, when she was just a short distance from the village, Isabella heard fighting a little further along the road. She began to run, chasing the origin of the sounds. She paused in her stride to listen and heard a man shouting in Slovakian, so she knew it was her duty to protect whoever it was, and she ran over the brow of the next hill. Isabella could finally see the scene of the struggle; Leila was assaulting Vilem with murderous intent.
Leila leapt at Vilem, pushing him to the ground. He fell, capable of little resistance. Vilem was now an old man; he could not sustain this sort of punishment for much longer and Leila knew it. She was playing with him, drawing out his death.
Isabella pounced on Leila. Leila hit the ground and Isabella kneeled on her back keeping her face down in the dirt as long as she could. Leila was strong but not stronger than Isabella.
“Run Vilem,” Isabella shouted. Vilem ran he did not need to be asked twice. Now that he had felt the strength of a Vampire he did not want to feel it again. He ran for his life and when Isabella saw he was a safe distance from them she let Leila out of her vise-like grip. The two women circled each other, enmity mutually emanating from each Vampire. They were ripe for this confrontation.
“This is pointless,” said Leila. “We can’t harm each other,”
“That’s not exactly true; we just can’t do any permanent damage,” Isabella snarled.
“All right, if that is what you want.” Leila ran at her and threw her body against Isabella‘s. Isabella fell to the ground and laughed at Leila.
“You are going to have to be faster than that,” Isabella shouted. She leaped to her feet and slammed her fist into Leila’s face. The thrust of the blow sent Leila’s body back through the air and seconds later she was lying on the ground writhing in agony. Leila pushed herself back on to her feet, blood dripping from a broken jaw. Leila rammed her jaw back into place. The pair paused to look at each other once more, Isabella grinned at Leila, enticing her to try and strike another blow. The two Vampires flew at each other, each clasping the other by the throat. They spun around, both trying to squeeze out the other’s life’s breath, but this pair had breathed their last many years ago.
Appreciating this was futile, Leila was the first to let go, and then Isabella relinquished.
“You are right—this is pointless,” Isabella said.
“I know what would not be pointless.”
Isabella waited for Leila to continue, wondering whether her next threat would be something she could deliver on. “That man, who is he? Why did you save him?”
“I didn’t save anyone,” Isabella responded.
“No, you did, you called out his name. He is Slovak isn’t he? One of your people. Well, he won’t be alive for long.” Leila chased after Vilem. Isabella, who knew these paths far better than Leila, slipped into the woods to get to Vilem before Leila did.
“Vilem,” Isabella shouted. Vilem was still running despite the injuries that Leila had inflicted. Isabella caught him by his coat and whispered, “She is chasing us.”
“What should I do?”
“I don’t know Vilem; she will catch up to us soon, that’s one thing the dead can do.”
“What?”
“We can travel fast.”
At this Leila leaped from behind, bashing Isabella’s skull with such a force that she knocked Isabella to the ground. Isabella fell, blood gushing from the open wound at the back of her head. She reached out and grabbed Leila’s leg. “Run Vilem, I can’t hold her long.” Isabella held tight but Leila was going to quickly get free. She reached behind to her wound; it was still bleeding, Isabella wondered why it hadn’t healed yet. She was firmly clasping Leila’s foot but the wound was concerning her. She felt ill and drowsy; this was the worst she had ever felt since the night she had actually died. Leila was still writhing around, trying to get free from Isabella’s strong grip. Pain suddenly gripped Isabella—shooting pains seared through her body. She let go of Leila’s foot. She could not hold on any longer.
Leila stood, towering over Isabella, who was unable to lift herself up. Then Leila knelt down and spoke to Isabella.
“I have killed you,” Leila said. “And I promise I will kill that farmer you were trying to protect.” Isabella tried to speak but could not. “Still trying to stay alive?” Leila asked. “Well, I will have to make sure you are dead.”
Isabella watched as Leila took a tiny bottle of what Isabella knew was the Dhampir’s blood from her dress. She placed the last two drops of the blood on the knife and stabbed Isabella in the heart with it. Isabella choked; she could taste blood in her mouth. Her eyes were not closed but her sight was melting away and blackness filled her vision. Leila stared at Isabella; finally she had exacted her revenge and was watching Isabella die. Leila then wanted to make sure she kept her promise to Isabella and chased after Vilem, intent on killing him.
Vilem was still trying to run but his injuries were beginning to be too much for him. He fell onto his knees and even they could no longer support him. He fell to the ground. Vilem had passed out but was awakened by the sound of a child playing. A little girl named Anna was merrily skipping along, not suspecting the danger she was in. Vilem opened his eyes to look at the child, who by this time was sitting at his side. She was stroking his forehead, pushing the hair from his eyes. Vilem clutched at her dress and drew her in close to him. He recognised something in the child. He saw Nadezhda’s eyes staring down at him.
“Go,” he whispered. “Leave me, for the dead travel fast.” The little girl was frightened and ran from him, not looking back, unaware that she had just been warned away from danger by her own grandfather.
Leila was watching from a distance, but was close enough to smell the scent of death surrounding him. She had fulfilled her promise to Isabella; this man was dead. She turned and left him to die in the middle of the road like an animal.
Isabella awoke lying in a bed that was unfamiliar to her. She heard a conversation in the next room.
“Look after her—she will wake soon.” Isabella was not completely lucid and did not recognise the voice although she should have. She fell asleep again and forgot the fragment of the conversation she had overheard. A few hours later the door opened and someone came in, and the movement awakened her again.
“How do you feel?” the stranger asked on seeing her eyes open.
“Considering I thought I was dead, well enough.”
“I am Vilem’s son.”
Isabella remembered the baby she had bounced on her knee. Then she remembered Vilem.
“Where is Vilem, is he all right?” Isabella tried to get up but she was still very weak.
“I am afraid he is dead.”
“I am sorry; I tried to save him.”
“I know, he told me….”
/> “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be on my account. I cannot grieve for him, I did not know him.”
“That is my fault as well; I should have let him come with me the night your mother died. He needed his own retribution, not just the promise of it.”
“It was his own choice.”
“We often make choices we shouldn’t and they seem totally insignificant at the time of making them, but they can change our lives forever.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Isabella felt the back of her head her wound was now healed but she felt another scar underneath her hair. “How long have I been unconscious?”
“Weeks.” Isabella was frightened if she hadn’t fed in weeks—was she old now? She felt her face, it still felt smooth she looked at Anna’s father.
“Have I fed?”
“You have.”
“How?”
“I would rather not say; it was not the most pleasant experience of my life.”
“I can understand that, thank you. What about Leila?”
“No one has seen her; the house that she occupied has been abandoned.”
“I am determined to find her now; I have to find a way to kill her,” Isabella promised.
“You are not the only one who has promised this.”
Thinking that he meant himself, she scolded him, “Are you going to abandon your family like your father did?”
“No, I didn’t mean me.”
“Who did you mean?”
“No one,” Anna’s father said nervously. Isabella tried to read his thoughts but she couldn’t. She needed to touch him, his will was strong, but Anna’s father stepped back away from her touch. Isabella was not surprised by his shrinking away from her. She felt responsible for the demise of both his mother and father. She did not realise that this man was not letting her touch him because he had been warned not to. She decided not to try. She didn’t want to touch him if he flinched away from her and it really wasn’t that important. Another person in the world who wanted to kill Leila was a good thing.
“How can I find her?” Isabella said, thinking aloud.
“I don’t think she will be far behind you when she realises you are still alive.
“You are right, she won’t be.”
“I think you should find a way to kill her first, before confronting her again.”
“I should and I will.”
“There must be a way.”
“There is. I need a Dhampir’s blood.”
DHAMPIR
THE CHILD OF A VAMPIRE AND A HUMAN
CHAPTER TWENTY
Vlad was Isabella’s consummate protector. He ceaselessly watched Isabella and as a consequence of this, Leila was never far from his sight. He had stopped her from killing Isabella on several occasions, in Paris and most recently near Bistrita. He had fallen behind, just moments behind the pair and when he arrived he saw Isabella lying on the ground, her eyes closed. He feared he was too late, but when he touched her he sensed there was still a glimmer of life left to save. He picked her up and carried her to Vilem’s old house; Vilem’s son willingly took her in. Vlad stayed with her, letting her feed from him, for this was the only thing that would restore her, his blood acting as an antidote to the effects of the Dhampir’s poison. He let her drain him until the pain would have been too much for anyone to bear, Vilem‘s son watched, amazed as Vlad rapidly aged in front of him. Day after day he repeated this behaviour until her eyes started to flicker and open, but he was gone before she could look upon his face.
Vlad left that night. He had to stop Leila, he understood that now. He feared that one day he would not be able to save Isabella from her. The fact is, if she had had just a little more of the Dhampir‘s blood, Isabella would have died. Vlad had to kill Leila and to do this he had to create a Dhampir and only Vlad knew how to do this.
He had not told Isabella the complete truth about his reincarnation as a Vampire. The pair constantly kept secrets from each other and this was no exception. It was true he had been resuscitated by a Dhampir, the last Dhampir, to be precise. Vlad had kept one last secret from Isabella about these events, and this last secret was the real reason that the Dhampir’s were dying out. A Dhampir was the child of a mortal and a Vampire. Few Vampires now occupied this earth, but there use to be thousands of them. Mircea the Great had helped the Dhampir’s hunt them until only he was left, and when he died the Dhampirs had no one left to sire them. And that was Vlad’s plan: he would have a child and then he would kill it. Only the blood from this child could kill Leila.
It was a simple but unsettling plan and he had waited until he was sure that there was no alternative. Vlad pursued this course of action with a heavy heart; after all he was about to create something that could kill both Isabella and himself. But Vlad was determined…Leila had to die and this child could never be a threat, as it would not be allowed to reach an age where it would be a danger to any Vampire.
He decided to travel quite a distance; he wanted his child to be born far away from Isabella. He had visited Leila before he had left and told her to leave the Carpathians in a way that only he could. She would initially obey him; she would not return until she gathered up the courage to face him again and that would not be for a long time. He would be back before she would dare to return. Vlad also took comfort in the fact that he had left Isabella in good hands. That family would always be loyal to Isabella because she was always loyal to them.
So Vlad left her—confident she would be safe. He travelled up to the top of Europe and settled in Holland. He began the search for the mother of his child. He wanted a rich woman. His supercilious nature did not want this child. Brief as its life might be, born into some back street hovel. He wanted a woman who would raise the child without fear of society’s judgement of having an illegitimate child. A baby whose mother displayed their child in the open and was not hidden away from people would be easier to find and kill. So therefore Vlad concluded he wanted a married woman, a woman who could pass off her child as legitimate.
Vlad entered Dutch society easily; he made himself known to the social elite and introduced himself as a Count and that was all it took to earn their curiosity. Soon a steady stream of invitations to soirées and receptions in the most elegant of houses, started to flow through his transient letterbox. After a few months he was invited to supper hosted by Boris and Sofia Van Helsing.
He arrived on time and Boris Van Helsing greeted him and welcomed him into his home. He introduced him to the other guests one by one. Vlad being the courteous gentleman that he was, kissed the forehand of all the women there. He was of course using this traditional introduction to assess their personalities and what would happen was he to take up with anyone of them. The first woman was too needy; this woman would be in danger of actually leaving her husband for him. No, he thought, she wouldn’t do. He was introduced to the next woman and then the next and still some flaw made itself apparent in each one. The host of the party then introduced him to the last woman there.
“And finally, this is my wife, Sofia,” Boris said. Vlad leaned down and kissed the woman’s hand. She was completely devoted to her husband but yet she was still unhappy in her marriage; she was perfect. Vlad looked into her eyes and she coyly looked away. She was instantly attracted to Vlad and something in her good nature attracted Vlad to her.
He stood watching her the whole night; she was walking about the party, greeting her guests with an obliging smile. She was somewhat uncomfortable, for she knew Vlad was staring at her. Sofia left and went into the garden and Vlad followed her.
“It is a cold night—I have brought you a shawl,” Vlad began.
“Thank you,” Sofia said. As Vlad placed the shawl around her shoulders she accidentally touched his icy cold hand. His touch excited her and this scared her. She never wanted to betray her husband.
Sofia was dedicated to her husband, but she had never loved him. He had always been so good to her, and she had known him all
of her life. They had grown up together and when he asked her to marry him she was reluctant but she knew no other man would ever treat her as well as Boris did. So she finally consented and had been relatively happy, but her life lacked passion and she longed for a child. She had borne a son who had been named after his father but he had died and that loss had very nearly consumed her. Boris insisted that they would have another child but she would not have another child of his. There was an inherit weakness in the children in his family; out of eight brothers he was the only one who had survived to manhood. She could not risk going through the heartbreak of losing another child.
When she saw Vlad that night she was instantly drawn to him; she had never felt such a feeling before. He was handsome, that was obvious for all to see, but there was an added attraction for Sofia, a strength that emanated from him, Sofia knew that it was not a strength of character, it was a strength of will. There was a mystery that surrounded him. When she looked into his eyes she saw something she couldn’t quite fathom, it was as if he had lived a dozen lifetimes and this intrigued Sofia. She was captivated by him.
“Why are you depriving your guests of your company?” Vlad asked.
“They are my husband’s friends. I am sure they will not miss me.”
“I think you underestimate the allure of the company of such a gracious hostess.” Sofia smiled. He was trying to charm her in a very blatant way. The mystery that had intrigued her quickly dissipated and she was disappointed but relieved by his very obvious flirtation.
“I think you are right. I will have to go inside and attend to my husband’s guests.” Sofia walked towards the back door of her house. Vlad sighed. He did not want to use mesmerism to seduce her, he wanted her to fall for him of her own free will as then she would find it easier to let Vlad go and stay with her husband. He would have to do better than he had done tonight—she had just dismissed him as a charming fool. Vlad watched and as she was about to enter the house, she turned back towards him and smiled. Not a knowing smile but a genuine, sincere, innocent smile. Vlad smiled in return; perhaps all was not lost yet.
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