by A L Wright
“I would like it if you would come. You can keep me grounded. I have to admit to being overwhelmed by everyone here so far. I'm used to being more alone.”
“I shall be there then. I will do what I can to help you adjust here, Rodelle. You are not alone any longer.” And with a slight bow and another smile, he turned and walked into the house.
She didn't move immediately. His voice speaking her name again had her rooted, while the warm feeling he gave her washed over her in a wave. After a moment and a few deep breaths, her legs finally let her walk into the house.
Chapter 5
Dinner with Rodelle had been quite pleasant, even if he was surrounded by flirtatious witches. He was certain that a couple of them were a bit jealous, since he had never paid any attention to them before. They were fickle females, though. They would all be obsessing over something new within a couple of weeks. He had only been concerned with Rodelle being comfortable. The others did tease her a bit, playfully, but he could see she would fit in well enough.
She would probably be leading them all in a few years. She was more powerful than any of those charm – makers could ever realize.
He had excused himself early from the dinner, however. He did not want to leave her side, but House business beckoned him.
And right now, he was attempting to force himself to pay attention to Alarin's instructions about their mission tonight.
“And once we have them sighted in I don't think we should wait. Hunters are too close to them to just leave them there.” The vampire Master was saying.
“Wait now. We were told to track them. I am not good with rescuing and you know that.”
“Dreven, I know what you are thinking but it is very possible that we'll need to grab them and go. Just prepare for it.” Alarin gave him a serious lifted brow look and walked out of the room.
Dreven sighed and followed him. He figured he should at least try to outdo Dirk's last witch rescue attempt. Showing the werewolf master up always gave Dreven a happy feeling.
They exited the house out the back door and walked through the gardens until they came to the back gate. Dreven took in a deep breath and let it out as he walked through the gate and over the property line. As he left the House's spell behind him more of his basic nature opened up and his hunter's instincts rose up within him.
He was told that the spell was supposed to have residual effects that lasted several days after leaving the House. It didn't work like that with him. The house spell barely worked for him at all.
Maybe he was older than anything the spells had been created for. But whatever the reason was he never let on to any of the Leaders about it. He preferred to be able to leave the house and know that his innate abilities would be there to call upon as needed. The witches would never understand that to oppress the vampires hunger was to make them weaker, less formidable, less likely to be able to defend themselves if they needed to.
Of course, it was also to keep them from killing and drawing attention to the House. So, to keep things all neat and tidy he kept quiet about it. And he did not really care much for the other vampires of the house anyway.
This was to be a one-night mission, as the area they were scouting in was local. At the speed vampires could move on foot local meant that all of Louisiana, most of Mississippi, Arkansas and some of Texas was considered local. The werewolves could move almost as fast, but in shorter bursts as their stamina was naturally driven and not mystical. So, the vampires were the best for quick grab and run retrievals, and the werewolves mainly came along for tracking purposes and whenever they were rescuing one of their kind.
Dreven and Alarin sped along for about two hours before reaching the edge of the town that was their destination. Small town Jackson, Louisiana held the pair of witches they were tracking. They had been moving around every few weeks but had stayed in this area longer than most places and Morgain wanted to find out why.
They stopped on the outskirts of the town to begin their search.
“Alright Dreven, let's find these two quick. Sniff them out.”
Dreven snorted. Sniffing was for dogs. Or werewolves. Not vampires. As a vampire, a mystical being, he was sensitive to magic use. If any spells had been cast or magic been used recently he would feel it.
Alarin was able to do it almost as well as he. It was tricky teaching the newer vampires how to do it since the spell dulled their senses outside of the House. But that did not really concern him so much.
He closed his eyes and immediately felt a pulsing of power. He let it roll around in his mind, so he could firmly grasp the magic and where it was emanating from.
“Kitchen witch. Potion brewer. I only sense the one, however. Maybe she is alone right now.” Dreven opened his eyes and looked off to the right, in the direction of the witch he was sensing. “Not overly powerful. Why does Morgain want this one?”
“Morgain would house them all if she could. But she had told me of a seer, a mind reader. I'm only picking up on one as well. We'll go check on this one then.”
They set off and quickly came upon a run-down house near the creek on the south side of the town. As they approached they could immediately tell that something was wrong. They could sense the one witch easily from inside the house, but there was a second person as well. The life force behind the second person was dim, very weak.
The two vampires exchanged looks, and Dreven knew that Alarin was going to make a rescue out of this trip.
Alarin and he went around the house to the front door and knocked. A few moments went by before the door was opened just a crack by a short, stout, red-headed young woman, who looked very tired and miserable.
“Who're you?” She said in a drawl. The accent placed her from the Texas area.
“My lady, my name is Alarin. I've come to offer you help. Would you allow me to enter?” He bowed to the woman.
The lady stared hard at them both, unmoving, undoubtedly untrusting of everyone.
“My companion's name is Dreven. I have come on behalf of the Mistress Morgain, who would like very much for you to join us at Hartman House.” Usually mention of the Head Witch of the House helped to ease fears, as most covens knew of her. But sometimes, as in this case, her name was just as good as any other name they could have pulled from thin air.
The woman didn't budge until a thin wail came from the back of the small house. She made to slam the door in their faces as she turned and ran towards the sound.
Dreven put his foot over the threshold of the door, holding it open just before it slammed.
He pushed open the door and made his way in, Alarin following close behind. After a quick look around, he moved to the back of the house where the woman had run.
When they entered the back room, they saw why they had only sensed one of them when they had first stopped. The other woman was laying on a mass of blankets, fevered and barely lucid.
“I didna' say you could come in. Leave us be!” The stout woman yelled over her shoulder at them as she wiped the other woman's sweaty brow with a wet, dirty cloth.
At her voice the woman on the bed opened her eyes and looked up at Alarin and Dreven. The original green color of her eyes was almost lost in the redness that filled them.
“Death has come for us, sister.” She reached her hand up towards the two vampires. “I told you. I was right. I'm always right.” Her hand dropped back to the bed and she let out a sob that sounded painful.
Alarin crouched down next to the bed. “What is wrong with her? Is she sick?” But Dreven already knew the woman wasn't ailing in any human way.
“It's the sight. It takes her ill time to time. This time it ain't lettin' her go.” She looked over at Alarin and whispered, “Please, sir, if you aim to kill us, do it quick.”
“My dear lady, as I said before we are here to help. We are not hunters. We wish to take you both to a place of safety. And I do believe that there are folks there who can help your sister. You just need to trust us.”
Dr
even put on what he hoped was his reassuring face when the woman turned to look at him. She quickly turned back to Alarin.
Alarin smiled at her. “He is a bit intense, but I assure you we mean only to help you. But you need to make the choice quickly, I fear your sister may not last the night unless we get her help.”
At that statement she nodded, plainly willing to do anything at that moment to help her sister. She stood up and looked around, most likely for what she thought she would need to bring.
“Bring only what you can carry in your hands. We can replace everything else once we get to our destination.” Alarin told her.
She nodded again. “My name is Sophie. My sister is Sylvie. I just need my recipe book.” Sophie got up and quickly ran out to the kitchen.
Alarin stood up. “You can carry Sylvie here. I can compel Sophie to sleep, she's too tired and weak with worry to fight it. It should be a fast trip back to the House.”
Dreven followed instruction and wrapped Sylvie in a blanket before lifting her into his arms. She weighed nearly nothing; she must have been sick for quite some time.
Sophie was tying a ribbon around a small, aged book as they walked out of the back bedroom. The woman looked distressed for a moment that Dreven had her sister in his arms. But when Alarin asked her if she was ready her body lost its tension and she looked resigned.
“I must carry you, for we travel fast.” Alarin looked at her intently. “You will sleep through the trip and awaken tomorrow once you are rested.”
Sophie's eyes started to close as Alarin put his arms around her. By the time he had her lifted she was sound asleep.
“Let us get them back and under Morgain's care before that one slips away.” Alarin nodded in Sylvie's direction then turned and went out of the house.
Dreven followed, not bothering to shut the door.
---
The trip back to the House was quick and quiet. The wind ruffling over the sick woman seemed to keep her calm and she made no attempt to move. Dreven had not compelled her to sleep since she had already passed out at the house.
When they reached the back gate of the property line they found Morgain there waiting for them.
Dreven stopped up in front of the older woman and she ran her hands over the lady he held in his arms.
“She's very weak, but her mind is already responding to the spell of the House. She may recover just fine on her own, in time. But I will sit with her until morning. Take her to my private office, there is a bed in there along with my stones and herbs.” Morgain turned around and led them into the house.
Alarin parted from them at the foot of the stairs and carried Sophie up to a room on the third floor. Dreven followed Morgain to the office where they had met the day before. She continued walking through the main office towards the back where the leader's private offices were. She held the door open as Dreven carried his bundle in and then closed it behind him.
He looked around quickly, observing the Head Witch's private room. It was tidy but cluttered at the same time, shelves over flowing with herbs, incenses, talismans, crystals and bottles. It had an odd sort of organization to it and Morgain had pulled down several things before he finished looking.
“Dreven, dear, please put her in the bed. Over there by the window. Thank you.”
He stepped back after laying her down and looked her over. “Her name is Sylvie. She spoke once, saying that she had known that death would come for her. You say she will live?”
“Well 'tis only fitting that the death that came for her were a couple of vampires. Visions and prophecies have many interpretations.”
“So, you believe she knew what we were?”
“Of course, she did, she is very powerful. Just not in control of it. I doubt her sister had any clue. She hasn't nearly the ability of this one.” Morgain spoke in quick short sentences as she ran her hands over the woman again. “She may have a rough recovery. It was good of the two of you to extract them now. Good work. Her aura is a bit tangled.”
Morgain sighed and turned to Dreven. “Thank you for making this a successful rescue. Now I need to figure out how to untangle her aura. I've never been good at that. Go and rest, Dreven. If you see Alarin send him this way, please.”
Dreven bowed his head to the Head Witch and made his way out the door and through the outer office.
He stopped as he came to the landing of the stairs leading up to the bedrooms and looked up. Rodelle could probably help with the seer's tangled aura. Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to go and see her.
Reminding himself that there were other witches in the House with healing capabilities, he turned away from the staircase and walked across the foyer to the elevator that would take him to the basement.
The vampires were housed in the basement, which was much larger than the footprint of the House itself. There were three entrances to the basement, one being the elevator he was waiting for now. The other two were on each end of the basement, cellar style doors that bolted from the inside. The doors on the east end also could bolt from the outside, but that precaution was only taken when housing new or feral vampires. Which was not very often.
Stepping out of the elevator he walked down the stone walled hallway until he reached the end. His bedroom was on the far west end, making him the keeper of the other door. When he entered his room, he felt a familiar vibration, a silent humming in the air.
He walked swiftly through the room and stopped before a large bookcase built into the stone wall. On the fourth shelf up from the floor was a wooden box. It was made from a mahogany tree, and the lids hinges were cast from silver. On the lid was carved a dragon. The box was old, ancient really. From another time and another place. Only constant care had kept the box in good condition, had allowed it to survive the years he was dormant in the tomb.
Inside that box was a stone that he had not looked upon in ages. Had not felt come active in many, many years. Not since his time in the tomb with Luminita.
Opening the lid revealed the stone, giving off a soft deep red glow. Not glowing brightly as it would glow every time her soul came back home to the tomb, to rest for a short time in the sarcophagus he guarded. But just bright enough to know that she was nearby. And alive again.
It was a soul stone. Rare and hard to spell correctly. It had for centuries been embedded in the lid of Luminita's final resting place. Where every few decades it would light up, letting Dreven know that she had come home to him again. It was the only thing that kept his mind alive while his body withered and desiccated.
And now she had come back to him, but this time she was alive.
Dreven picked up the stone and cradled it in his hands. He walked over to his bed and not bothering to undress, laid down and held it to his heart as memories flooded over him that he had not allowed to enter his mind in a very long time.
Chapter 6
Transylvania 1475, Court of Vlad Dracula
Lord Vlad had sat quietly for years in his castle in Transylvania. After his release from the Royal Hungarian prison some years earlier, he had tried, outwardly, to stick to his newly adopted principles of the Catholic faith. Of late he had been more rewarding of his nobles and merchants, though in small amounts, and showed favor by bringing some of their sons into the ranks of his personal guard. Only a select few were honored by this.
The older of the merchants and nobles knew better, however. They knew that he had only found a quieter way of showing them his power over them.
The boys who were brought in, though, felt quite honored and would often compete for the chance to ride along as his escorts or sit at the second table during dinners and feasts.
Only a small handful of the merchant's sons had made it up the ranks as his body guards. And only one had been given complete freedom to act as Lord Vlad's Voice and Hand.
Dreven Vasile had done many vile things to impress his Lord. And he had beaten many of his fellow guardsmen to within inches of their lives to prove he was the best man to sta
nd at his Lord's side. He was the keeper of his Lord's secrets, the hand of justice, and was nearly as feared as Vlad Dracula himself.
He had served his Lord in this capacity for a year and a day before Vlad approached Dreven with the offer of eternity. Dreven had known Lord Vlad was strong and ruthless beyond humanity, but he had not known of his Lord's true capacity for evil. Vlad revealed to him his darkest secret, believing the young Moldavian had earned his complete trust.
And young Dreven, then only twenty-two years of age, had eagerly accepted what his Lord offered to him.
Dreven also learned that Vlad's seeming conversion to Catholicism had been nothing but a ruse to solidify his relations with the King of Hungary. Vlad had compelled King Matthias Corvinus to release him and to also let him wed the King's sister.
It had been nine years since his release from the prison, and the King of Hungary expected a child to result of the marriage. Many letters had come of late, impatiently asking for news of possible heirs. A child would fully seal the relations between Hungary and Transylvania and only if a child were to be born, the King would then back Vlad in his attempt to regain the Wallachian throne. And Vlad wanted to rule as a king again more than anything.
When Vlad secured Dreven's sincere acceptance of eternity, he asked that he give something to him in return before the transformation would happen. Vlad made Dreven promise to impregnate the Lord's wife so that a child could be born, and Vlad could make his attempt to retake the throne. Vlad Dracula being undead, a vampire, he could not create a child and desperately needed someone he trusted to perform the task for him.
Dreven agreed to do whatever his Lord wished, to help bring him to glory and his throne.
At first Vlad would compel his wife to comply with the couplings, but after a time he simply ordered Dreven to visit her chambers not caring whether his wife was willing or not. It was in these moments that Dreven discovered what it was like to care for another human being.