VROLOK
Page 42
Isabella sat in the corner of the room in silence; she hesitated before she alerted him to her arrival. She had not talked to him in two centuries and she did not know how to start.
“Vlad,” she said gently, he turned towards her. The pair looked at each other, each one not knowing how to react to the other’s presence.
“Have you come to witness my ultimate demise?” Vlad said. Isabella had not expected a response like this.
“So you know you are danger?”
“I do.”
“You recognised Van Helsing as a Dhampir?”
“Oh, I recognised him.”
“What do you mean?” Isabella asked.
“I mean I recognised him because he is my son.”
Isabella looked at Vlad; she was completely confounded.
“Your son?”
Vlad sighed.
“That is what a Dhampir is Isabella…the child of a Vampire and a human.” Isabella could not believe what she was hearing. She quickly unsheathed her grandfather’s sword, which was hidden as always amongst her skirts. She hurled it at Vlad. It cut straight through the palm of his left hand and pinned him to the wall behind. The sword was now lodged in both Vlad’s hand and the back wall of the room; mortal strength could not have freed him. Vlad looked over at Isabella and sighed. “So in two centuries you have not learned how to control your temper,” Vlad said.
Isabella confronted Vlad; she raised her hand and struck him. Vlad freed himself and pushed her back, pinning her to the opposite wall. Repressed passion was bubbling up to the surface of both Vampires. Vlad pulled back on Isabella’s hair and kissed her. Isabella pushed him back; he fell to the ground. She stood over him, he clasped his hand around her ankle and she fell to the floor. Vlad rolled on top of her, restraining her with the weight of his body, Isabella tried to push back but she could not. She struck him again; a cut appeared on his lip, Vlad smiled. He lowered his mouth to touch hers. Isabella bit him. She was still putting up the pretence of resisting him. Vlad was undeterred as Isabella struck him again and this time Vlad struck back. Isabella was outraged. She kicked out trying with all her might to get him off her. Vlad fell back from her and Isabella rose to her feet, heading for the door. Vlad threw out his hand clasping Isabella’s ankle and pulling her to the floor again. As she fell Vlad ripped at her bodice to reveal her flesh. Isabella’s passion for him took over, but she was still defiant and she struck him again. Vlad took hold of each wrist and held them over her head. She struggled and succeeded in getting one hand free from his grip. This time instead of striking of him she ripped open his shirt. She wanted to feel his cold flesh touching hers once more. Isabella kissed him again. Vlad unfastened her skirts and Isabella could feel his cold flesh penetrating hers.
Hours later they lay in each others arms.
“I am sure your reaction to such news would be more controlled…” Isabella was first to speak continuing their previous conversation. “But you are telling me you have fathered a child, a child that can kill us both. Why?”
“Because….” Vlad rose to his feet. He did not want to tell her why, why should he? “It doesn’t matter why, it just happened.”
“You have killed us all,” Isabella retorted.
“I may have,” Vlad nodded. “Why did you come here?” he asked.
“Olya foretold that we would all die. Some of her predictions have come true. I thought if I could save you then it would prove her prediction to be wrong, and perhaps I would live through this,” Isabella lied. She was not telling this man that she had come to save him, with not a thought for her own safety. The pair had not talked to each other in decades and within moments of seeing each other they had slipped into their old destructive pattern of lies and deceit.
“I think I will stay here and face them.” Vlad said.
“Don’t be ridiculous! You will die here, and according to Olya if you die I will be next, and dying is not something I am planning to do for a very long time.”
“So where do you suggest I go?”
“I suggest we go home; if they follow us, there are plenty of Slovaks who will protect us from the English.”
“Are you asking me to go home with you?”
“I am,” Isabella responded. She felt this was a moment to be honest.
“All right, I will go with you.”
“We must go now,” Isabella said as she went over to the window to see if their way was clear. As she looked outside again she was reminded of the boxes that the men had poisoned. “What is in the crates outside?” Isabella asked.
“Earth from home.”
“Why did you bring it with you?” Isabella asked. Vlad looked into Isabella’s eyes and realised that she truly did not understand why he had to bring it here.
“Isabella, do you not know how powerful you have become? You told the land, my land, to never let me go and it appears, it listened.” A memory flashed into Isabella’s mind. She was talking to Olya and earth had heated in her hand.
Isabella looked up at Vlad in disbelief and thought, could she have caused this?
“I cannot go anywhere without it. I do not get a moment’s peace unless my land is close to me.”
Isabella could not believe his words.
“And that is not all, Isabella; it seems your influence over me is truly great. I cannot enter a building without being invited; that is one of your futile principles, isn’t it? I believe, for almost a year now, no Vampire has been able to enter any building with out an invitation.” Vlad’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I am losing my powers. They seem to be slipping from me. Those men you saw earlier tonight—I have made a Vampire out of one of their women, Mina Harker. I can feel her in my head; I cannot block her out. She visits my mind every sunrise and sees things I cannot control.”
Vlad approached Isabella and looked deep into her eyes.
The newfound red fire of his eyes seemed like a warning to Isabella and she asked him. “What has happened to your eyes?”
Vlad sighed. “That is another thing. I remember Mircea, my grandfather, vaguely. What I do remember of him are his red eyes. I asked my father when I was just a child…did he always have eyes like fire? My father told me no, that when a special man like your grandfather is dying, the last remnants of his life burn out and we can see these remnants burning in his eyes.”
Vlad was convinced he was about to die, but Isabella was still determined to save him. “We should go as soon as we possibly can,” Isabella stated.
“When we get home will you stay with me…until it is ended?” Vlad asked.
“I will stay until the fire in your eyes has been chased from you.”
“We will leave tonight,” Vlad stated.
Isabella sent a letter to Anna as they left England. After receiving this letter, Anna spoke to her son.
“They may need the Slovaks to help them to get away from the English. She wants the Slovaks to greet her and Vlad at the ship docks,” Anna told her son.
“I will leave tomorrow,” he answered.
Anna shook her head. “No you can’t. Look at her letter; she has said that you should not. She does not know if she can keep you safe.”
“I have to go… mother, she would not hesitate to save me even if she believed that saving me would kill her. You told me that…remember? I have to show her the same loyalty.”
Anna nodded. She let him go, but she was grieving, for she knew she would never see her son alive again.
Anna’s son, Trajan, had arranged for a coach to meet them. He had gathered together a small army to protect them. Some Slovaks had responded to Isabella‘s request and he also brought Szgany Gypsies with him—as they would do anything for the promise of money.
Isabella was feeling calmer, for she had not seen any sign of the Van Helsing and the English who accompanied him. She hoped they had not followed but she knew in her heart that they had, for Vlad‘s burning eyes were still bright and there was not a trace of black to be seen in them.
> The two Vampires travelled the rest of the journey by coach and when they were a few miles from home there was still no sign of any danger. Isabella stopped the coach.
“I am going to go ahead,” Isabella began. “You stay here until I send for you, when I know it is safe.”
“What about you, Isabella? If the English are there I don’t want you to face them alone.”
Isabella grinned. “I can take care of myself.”
Vlad placed his hand to her face and gently ran his fingers down her skin. It was a welcome expression of affection. He got back into the coach and whispered to himself.
“I know you can, Isabella, I know you can.” Vlad signalled to the coachman to take him to the nearest inn.
Isabella walked the rest of the way. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. As she approached the castle, she called into see Anna.
“Has anyone been up there?” Isabella asked.
“Yes, a few days ago a man and woman arrived. He has killed the three Vampires that were left up there.”
“Well, that is no loss,” Isabella said. “It must be Abraham; he wants to kill us all and he is the only real threat to us.”
“Do you think you will be able to change Olya’s prophecy?”
Isabella went over to Anna and squeezed her hand.
“I will try Anna, I promise you I will try.” Isabella spoke these words with conviction but she suspected it was hopeless. Yet she had to try, for she could not imagine a world without Vlad in it. Despite everything, he was the other part of her and without him she would always be wanting.
Isabella went back for Vlad. She had to tell him that their worst fear had been confirmed; Van Helsing had followed and was waiting for them somewhere.
“There is no sign of them,” Isabella began.
“Well, that is good. Perhaps they have not come after us.”
“They have. Abraham has already been up to the castle and disposed of your three…concubines.”
“Well, that is no great loss to the world.”
Isabella smiled. “That is what I said. I think the best thing to do is go back to the castle and wait for them there. I think that is our best chance.”
Vlad and Isabella travelled home together. Isabella was wrong. It was the worst thing they could have done; the English were waiting for them. The coach ascended up through the forest and when they were nearly at the castle gates, Isabella heard horses starting to chase after them.
“They are coming,” she shouted to Vlad. Vlad grabbed Isabella and pulled her close to him.
“Go!” he said vehemently, staring deep into her eyes. “Save yourself.”
Isabella shook her head in defiance but Vlad tossed her from the coach and sped on towards the castle.
Vlad had thrown Isabella with such a force that she was now out of sight of the English and well away from their path. She stood looking up in horror and desperation, trying to think what she could do. As if her situation could not get worse, she saw someone else there that day—she saw Leila.
Leila’s other senses had become more acute and despite her blindness she was breaking the necks of any Slovaks she could find with ease. The Slovaks saw that they were being slaughtered by a Vampire and they started to retreat. Only the Szgany remained.
Isabella ran towards the castle as fast as she could, defying Vlad. Perhaps she could still save him. Leila was not killing the English, so they were not paying too much attention to her. Anna’s son was there, calling, beseeching the Slovaks who were retreating to help in the fight. One of the Englishmen crept up behind him and ran his sword through his stomach.
“No!” Isabella cried out from a distance, willing this event to have not taken place, but it was too late: Olya’s prophecy was coming true. Isabella continued to run towards the castle. She was frantic and for the first time in her life she was unconcerned by the slaughter of Slovaks. Anna’s son was already dead and she cared nothing for the rest of them. Let them run. They would not be running for long. Her only concern now was Vlad.
She had by this time reached the castle. She saw Abraham. He was about to strike and Vlad was trying to escape. Isabella had never seen him run from anyone. One of the men, Isabella presumed he was one of the English, plunged a knife into Dracula’s chest and another was about to slit his throat. Isabella unsheathed her grandfather’s sword and plunged it into the side of one of the men.
“Don’t see her,” Vlad whispered. As the other men watched, they thought it was Szgany Gypsies that had wounded the American called Quincy. Isabella summoned up all the power she could muster.
“Time, slow for me.” She ran through the crowd that seemed to be almost frozen by her words. When she reached Vlad, the wound was not healing—the knife obviously had Dhampir’s blood on it. Isabella slumped down and knelt at his side. She had little time. She could not hold off his would-be murderers for long.
“What can I do?” Isabella asked, frenziedly trying to think of a way to stop the wound from growing.
“Nothing, Isabella, let me go,” Vlad said. Tears welled up in Isabella eyes. She had not cried since Nicolae’s death, but today she could not hold back. Her tears flowed from her eyes in a mighty red gush.
“No, I can’t,” Isabella cried. “I will never be able to let you go.”
Vlad lifted up Isabella’s hand and placed it on his temple. Vlad’s memories flowed into her mind. She saw Vlad saving her from the guillotine; she saw him letting Nicolae live because he looked so much like her. She saw him carrying her back to Jakub’s home after Leila had attacked her. She saw him nursing her back to health; she had nearly died. He had saved her by letting her drink from his blood and it had caused him hours of agonising pain. And finally she saw why he had fathered a child—to save her from Leila.
Isabella was completely distraught; she couldn’t let him go. “We could have been happy,” Isabella said, but Vlad smiled slightly.
“No, we couldn’t,” Vlad whispered. Isabella was unable to contain her grief.
“I love you.” Isabella whispered. “You and no other. There was never anyone else but you, it has been always you and always will be.”
Vlad tried to smile but his life was ebbing away from him. He wanted desperately to speak his final words to Isabella. “All I ever wanted to do… was share eternity with you.” Vlad saw Jonathon Harker kneeling down to deliver the final blow. His knife was covered in Dhampir’s blood; he was one of the first to break free from Isabella’s spell. Vlad used what remained of his strength to push Isabella back and out of the way. Isabella screamed as the blade sliced through Vlad’s neck and struck the stone floor below him. Phosphorescence that only Isabella and Van Helsing could see now shot out of Vlad’s body. It was that feeling of serenity again but it was stronger this time, stronger than Isabella had ever felt it and she felt more powerful than she had ever done. It was like an energy surging through her. She could see and hear things much further than she ever had before. She felt her strength increasing tenfold and she could feel her influence was much greater. Her scars melted away and her power was greater at that moment—she felt invincible.
And her greatest gift of all, her daylight vision, was given back to her. The sun was shining brightly and she could see, oh so painfully and clearly, as Vlad’s body turned to dust and he gave her all that remained of his omnipotent power. The surge of energy knocked Isabella to the ground and the cobblestones beneath her broke. A light like a thunderbolt ricocheted from her and a scar on the head of the woman that the English had brought with them disappeared; this woman was now free from Vlad‘s curse.
Abraham, who was resistant to both Isabella’s and Vlad’s power, approached her.
Isabella stared up at him.
“Isabella,” he said. “You said when we met again one of us would have to die,” Abraham continued.
“I did,” Isabella answered.
“I think there will be a third meeting, don’t you?” Isabella almost smiling at him said.
>
“Yes I think there will.” Isabella looked beyond Van Helsing and saw Leila approaching. “Once again, sir, I need something from you.” Isabella slashed her sword across Abraham’s arm, and leapt at Leila. Isabella swung around and took off Leila’s head with one last blow. Vlad’s influence still resonated through the crowd of perpetrators and onlookers. No one apart from Abraham could see Isabella, but now she wanted to be seen by her own people. The people that she had protected for centuries had now repaid her by running from her when she needed them most.
“Slovaks see me!” she shouted.
The fleeing Slovaks now all looked up at Isabella who was standing on top of the battlements. “Mark my words, for letting Vlad Dracula die, you, your families, every one of you will all die, I promise you.” The Slovaks knew Isabella meant every word.
TOMBSTONE, ARIZONA
FEW PEOPLE THERE DIE IN THEIR BEDS
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Simon walked the dusty path towards the inn where he had left his family. Isabella had given them enough money so that they could stay there indefinitely, and it would be easy then for Simon to find them when he returned. Simon was within a mile of home; he was hoping and longing to see a glimpse of his family. He heard children playing in the distance and he wondered whether they were the voices of his children. He strained to hear, hoping, listening for a familiar tone. That familiar tone that he sought soon found his ear; he dropped his bag and started to run. Moments passed, his vision still obscured by the distance and foliage of the forest, but then all of a sudden he saw his wife. She was sitting with her back towards him. Simon had longed to see his wife again, for all the three long years that he had been away. But on seeing her now Simon’s running was instantly halted. He was now hesitant. Questions started to race in his mind. She could have presumed him dead; after all, he had left with a Vampire. No one would have blamed her for making such an assumption. Simon’s heart sank even as he was just fifty yards away from home.
Simon’s wife was sitting watching her children play. A feeling came over her that she was being watched. She was not frightened; she knew the eyes that were watching were not going to cause her any pain. She stood and looked in front of her, lifting her hand over her eyes to shield her vision from the sun; there was no one there. She sat down again, thinking she had just imagined it. She tried to dismiss it but couldn’t; the feeling was still with her and it had grown stronger. She stood again and peered in front of her and still did not see anyone that she recognised. Then something deep within her heart told her to look to the woods. She twisted around her head as far as she could and she saw her husband standing watching her. She looked forward again her heart pounding; a single tear ran down her cheek. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Could this be a dream? Was this image behind her a welcome figment of her own imagining? She was now frightened. If she looked back again would the image of her husband be gone forever.