VROLOK

by Nolene-Patricia Dougan

  “I am afraid the house is not in the mood to entertain tonight, but I will walk you back to your lodgings.”

  “Thank you.” The couple started to walk through the nearly dark streets back to the inn where Isabella was staying.

  “My parents are frightened; I don’t understand it. I have never seen them like this.”

  “What are they frightened of?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Your family has been touched by such tragedy of late, it is only natural they would be frightened.”

  “It’s more than that. I have a strong sense that this is far from over, that there is more tragedy to come.”

  “Don’t be silly, Quincy, what else could possibly happen?” Quincy took Isabella in his arms. Isabella wanted to shrink back from his touch not because he was a Dhampir but because she was afraid that she was starting to feel something and that would make the next few weeks harder than they were already going to be.

  “Isabella, I love you, do you love me?” Isabella hesitated before she answered. It was too late—she did feel something; she did not want to answer him. She didn’t want to lie to him.

  “Of course I do,” Isabella answered. She was ashamed of herself. She had not felt this much regret since she had seen the mother of one of her victims outside Erzsébet’s castle. “Go home and be with your family. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “Will you marry me soon? Who do I ask for your hand?” Isabella shrugged off Quincy’s grip.

  “My parents are long dead.”

  “I will ask your brother, then.”

  “He has gone back….” In Quincy’s excitement he was not really listening to what Isabella was saying and was unaware of the sudden coldness she was displaying.

  “I will ask your brother. He is coming to visit my sister tomorrow.”

  “Cole is visiting your sister?”

  “I am sure you have noticed they have struck up a relationship.” Isabella eyes hardened and her lips stiffened. Had Nicolae been betraying her all this time? Had she been so blind?

  “Isabella you look different, somehow.” Isabella looked back at Quincy, restoring her façade with the purest of smiles.

  “Sorry, I did not realise Cole and your sister were so close, I have been blind,” she said.

  “It is those blue tinted glasses you wear now; they do not let me see your pretty eyes…you are not upset?”

  “Of course not. I could not be happier for us all.”

  “I will see you tomorrow, then.”

  “You certainly will.” Isabella watched as Quincy walked away with an added spring in his step. He was a boy in love. Isabella decided at that moment to end this as soon as she could.

  When Quincy got home his parents called him into the drawing room. They wanted to speak to him.

  “We have to tell you what is happening, you and Lucy.”

  “I have something to tell you, too,” Quincy said with a gleeful smile, for he was happy. “I am to be married.”

  “That is wonderful Quincy!” Mina said. She was truly happy for her son, but there was sadness behind her smile.

  “I am happy for you, too,” Lucy agreed. “Although I do not know what you see in that pale excuse for a girl.”

  “Well, I do not know what you see in her brother.” Mina stopped her children’s playful bickering and said.

  “We are very pleased for both of you but we must tell you something,” Mina said.

  “Do you remember the night Jack died…?”

  “Speaking of Jack, there has been something I have meant to ask you about him.”

  “Quincy, whatever it is, it can wait,” Mina said, but the words had already left Quincy’s lips before his mother had a chance to silence him.

  “What is a Dhampir?”

  Mina stepped forward, taking her husband’s arm; anxiety was making her squeeze him tight.

  “Where did you hear that word?” Mina asked, a sense of urgency resonating through her voice.

  “We all heard it,” Quincy said.

  “When?” Jonathon asked his son. He, too, was desperate.

  “The night he died he pointed at me and yelled the word ‘Dhampir’.”

  “’Dhampir’! How could it be true?” Mina gasped.

  “What is a Dhampir?” Quincy asked.

  “It is true; he was the only one who heard Jack use that word. He is resistant to the Vampire’s power.”

  “He is a Dhampir!”

  Quincy was now afraid at the gravity of his parents’ mood. “You are talking nonsense about Vampires. Have you both gone mad?”

  “I wish we were. It appears you are a Dhampir.”

  “What does that mean, mother?”

  “You are a Vampire hunter, Quincy. Vampires cannot enter your mind. You are impenetrable to them. That is why you could hear Jack’s words and all of us could not.”

  “Jack tried to warn us but we would not listen.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Then Arthur’s wife and child were killed by a Vampire and we knew Jack was telling us the truth. A Vampire is among us again and you may be the only one that can kill it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You are a Dhampir. Your blood is poison to them. Van Helsing was a Dhampir too.”

  “How can I be a Dhampir?”

  “Who knows? Some quirk of fate, Van Helsing did not know why he was what he was,” Mina said. “He met a woman when he was very young and this woman told him he was a Dhampir.”

  “How do you know Van Helsing is dead?” Quincy asked.

  “We sent a wire to the last hotel where he had written to us. He had gone weeks before and left a forwarding address. We then contacted that hotel and the one after that and the one after that. We ultimately received a letter saying that he had killed himself.”

  A frantic knock on the door interrupted their grim tale. Lucy, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, got up to answer the door. Nicolae was at the door. He was out of breath, and when Lucy opened the door he fell towards her. She stumbled back, unable to support his weight. The Harkers, hearing the commotion, came running into the hall fearing for their daughter. They saw a weak and tired Nicolae lying on the floor, gasping for air.

  “Shut the door,” Nicolae whispered. “Shut the door,” he said again, gathering up his energy, his voice becoming louder and more determined to scream: “For the dead travel fast.” With this Nicolae shut his eyes and did not say another word.

  “He has passed out,” Lucy said.

  “Check his neck for punctures,” Mina said. Sure enough when Lucy loosened his collar to reveal his neck there were two puncture marks. An hour passed by and Mina came into the living room. Nicolae was now lying on the couch, Lucy sitting beside him, holding his hand.

  “Is he awake yet?” Mina asked her daughter.

  “No,” Lucy answered. Mina placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  “Don’t worry, Lucy. The doctor said there has been no blood loss. Whatever attacked him, he was strong enough to see it off.”

  “I know, Mother. Is Quincy back from checking on Isabella yet?”

  “No, but I am sure she will be all right,” Mina said.

  “I hope so mother. I know I have not made her completely welcome, but I would never wish her any ill.”

  “Of course not, Lucy, your brother knows that.” Lucy’s dauntless exterior melted away and she began to sob. Mina was distressed to see her daughter cry; she had not seen Lucy cry since she was about six years old.

  “Oh, mother, why is this happening to us? What have we done to deserve it?”

  “Nothing, child. It will pass and you will be happy again. I promise you that.” As Mina said these words she knew she was incapable of keeping this promise to her daughter. Nicolae opened his eyes and looked at Lucy.

  “Lucy,” he whispered.

  “Cole, you are awake. Thank goodness!” Mina left the young couple to comfort each other. When Mina went out into the hall she sat and watched the do
or waiting for her son and husband to come back, praying they would be unharmed. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity but was only a few hours, the door opened and Jonathon came in, and behind him to Mina’s obvious relief was Quincy carrying Isabella, who, like Nicolae, looked as if she had been through an ordeal.

  “She’s unconscious as well,” Quincy said “we found her near Arthur’s home.”

  “Near Arthur’s?”

  “Don’t worry. We checked in on him; he is fine. Well, as fine as he can be.”

  “Are there any marks on her?”

  “None whatsoever.”

  “Thank God,” Mina said. “Cole is awake.”

  “That’s good; we need to ask him what happened,” Jonathon said. He knocked on the door of the living room, and entered, Quincy following closely behind him.

  “Come in,” Lucy said.

  “Sorry to interrupt, but we have to know what happened tonight.”

  “Of course,” Nicolae answered. “It’s all a bit of a blur. When I went back to the inn it was after dark. I had walked because it was a pleasant night. I could hear someone walking behind me but I did not think anything of it at the time. I thought it was someone just going the same way I was. The next thing I know something grabbed me. It seemed to bite into my neck. I kicked and struggled and somehow I got loose, although its grip seemed like a vise on me. And then as soon as I was free I ran as fast I could; I ran to Lucy.”

  “So you don’t know what happened to your sister?” Quincy asked. Nervousness came over Nicolae; a flaw in his plan had made itself apparent.

  “My sister?”

  “Yes, do you know what happened to her?”

  “No.”

  “We found her unconscious, too, outside Arthur Holmwood’s house, but there were no marks on her.”

  “That’s…good. Where is she now?”

  “She is sleeping upstairs.”

  “I would like to see her.”

  “Of course. Lucy you can show him upstairs.”

  Nicolae climbed the stairs with a sense of foreboding. He had not betrayed Isabella. He never would…but would she betray him? Nicolae had pierced his own neck and had kept piercing it every time Lucy left him on his own, not giving the wounds a chance to heal. He had tasted loneliness before and could hardly bear it. He wanted a chance at living.

  When Nicolae and Lucy entered the room Isabella still had her eyes closed.

  “Lucy, can you give us a few moments?” Nicolae asked.

  “Of course.” Lucy leaned forward and kissed Nicolae on the cheek; she then shut the door on her way out of the room. Nicolae crept over to Isabella’s bedside, but he knew she was awake and listening to whatever was being said.

  “Open your eyes, Isabella,” Nicolae said firmly. Isabella opened her eyes and smiled at him. However, it was a smile tinged strongly with maliciousness. Nicolae had never known what it felt like to be the object of Isabella’s hate, and then he did.

  “Well, I am surprised to see you here,” Isabella lied. “I heard you had a traumatic time, attacked by a Vampire.”

  “Isabella, do not start playing your malicious games with me.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. I have never listened to anyone. I am five hundred years old. Do you think I am going to listen to you?”

  “No, Isabella you will never change, you are just as bitter and twisted as you always were, both in death and life.” Isabella scowled at Nicolae now. He had never spoken to her in this manner. He really hated her.

  “What were you doing near Arthur Holmwood’s? Surely you have done all you can to him?”

  “It is none of your business what I do,” Isabella said. Nicolae got up to leave the room.

  “I will not tell these people what you are. I couldn’t even describe what you are,” Nicolae said.

  Nicolae’s disgust was penetrating. It hurt Isabella, but as always, she did not let her feelings show. She needed to be away from this place before she completed her revenge. She would go home just to see her own land once more. She wanted a reminder as to why she was doing this.

  Isabella had promised Anna that she would never come to visit her again; indeed she was not sure if she would still be alive. If she wasn’t, her family would be living in the castle and would know nothing of Vampires, but Isabella had to see that place again—she had to remember him. Isabella walked through the forest she had left fifty years ago with the intention of never returning. So many times she had this intention and so many times it had called her back. The castle had actually been kept in good order; someone was occupying it that really cared. She knocked on the oak door and a young adolescent woman opened it.

  “Can I help you?” The young woman asked. “Did you want something?”

  “Nothing, really, I just wanted to see this place again.”

  “You can come in if you want.”

  “Thank you. I will not stay long.”

  “Stay as long as you like. No one else is here at the moment.”

  “I won’t bother you too much. I used to live in one of the villages down below.”

  “You did? Most of them are gone now.”

  “I know.”

  “Most people have moved to Bistrita or somewhere else.”

  “So where is your family?”

  “They have gone down into town.”

  “And why did you not go?” The girl looked embarrassed and coy.

  “I am waiting for a friend.”

  “A male friend, no doubt.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do your mother and father know that is why you stayed behind?”

  “No, they would not be pleased if they did.”

  “I wouldn’t lie to them if I were you. Lies and deception never lead to happiness.”

  “It sounds like you know what you are speaking of.”

  “I do, believe me, I do.”

  “You do not look that much older than me.”

  “I am older than I seem.” There was a lull in the conversation.

  “Tell me about the man you love,” the girl said.

  “Who says I love anyone?” Isabella was shocked at this young woman’s perspicacity.

  “Your sadness tells me. Oh, please tell me, I love to hear stories that promise of happiness.”

  “My story, if it promises of anything—it certainly isn’t happiness.”

  “There must have been even glimpses of happiness, or else you would not be so sad to have lost it.”

  Isabella smiled, she could not think of a single time when she was totally happy; darkness had always seemed to cast a shadow over her. “I can’t think of a single moment when both of us were completely happy.”

  “Then why did you stay with him?”

  “I loved him, God help me, I loved him.”

  “Then there must have been a time when you knew he loved you. There must have been something that made you love him.”

  “Something that told me he loved me?” Isabella reflected. “The truth is I did not know how much he loved me until it was too late.”

  “That must have been terrible.” For the first time in the conversation this child’s inexperience shone through.

  “Terrible does not quite seem enough of a word. When he was dying he told me how much he cared for me.”

  “How did he tell you?”

  “We had argued. We constantly argued and I had left him and was determined to stay away for good. I took myself off to another country where no one knew me and I did not know anyone. I lost myself in total anonymity. I did not realise there was someone following me, someone who wished me… harm. Vlad, that was the name of the man I loved.”

  “That is my ancestor’s name…he was a Prince who lived in this castle.”

  “Yes I know…he started to watch me without my knowledge; he had been my constant protector. This someone…she tried to hurt me many times and each time he did his best to stop her. If I was in any danger at all he saved me from it. He kept me alive and kept hi
mself hidden, not ever letting me know how much he cared. He saved me many times and I didn’t even know he was there. He didn’t tell me this until he was moments from death.” Isabella looked up at the young girl; there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t waste your tears on me,” Isabella said.

  “That story is heartbreaking, and you never knew he was watching over you?”

  “Never,” Isabella looked at the young girl. “You love this boy whom you are waiting for?”

  “I do.”

  “What would you do if someone killed this boy? What would you do to those people?” A dark look came over the young girl’s face.

  “I would be merciless,” the young girl replied.

  “Even if it meant that you would die in the process?”

  “I would do anything to avenge him. I would try and inflict the greatest harm that I possibly could to anyone who was involved.” Isabella got up to leave.

  “Thank you, you will never now how much you have helped me.” The girl smiled at Isabella, and Isabella said. “You never told me your name.”

  “Isabella,” the girl answered back, Isabella looked shocked. “I was named after an ancient ancestor. My great-grandmother Anna insisted on it. She said that this woman was a fighter, a strong person and although she did not always make the right decisions, she was a woman who when she made a vow to someone she loved, she never reneged on it. No matter how hard it was for her to keep.”

  “Anna was a good person.”

  “She was, or so they tell me.”

  “The man you loved—do you know he was named after a national hero.”

  “A hero?” Isabella replied.

  “Yes.”

  “He was a hero.” Isabella left and made her way swiftly back to England to finish what she started.

  “I don’t understand it, why did she leave?” Quincy asked.

  “What did she say when she left?” Lucy asked.

  “She said she had some urgent business back in America to do with her father’s estate.”

  “But Cole, you did not go,” Lucy said.

  “Isabella was always far more clever than I was… at that sort of thing,” Nicolae quickly added on. “Don’t worry, she will be back,” he added.

  “How are you so sure?”

  “I know it for a fact.”