Night's Gift: Book One of the Night's Vampire Trilogy

by Mary M. Cushnie-mansour

  “But if he didn’t want her anymore, why did he continue to keep her away from you?” I asked. “He had already destroyed your lives, and as you said, there was an abundance of young girls around who would be more than willing to accommodate his needs.”

  Max’s eyebrows rose questioningly as he looked at me. “Girls? Like you, Virginia? Needs? Do you think that you really know, after one tumble on the bed, what the Count Basarab Musat’s needs are?”

  “That is a low blow, Max. I am doing now what I have to do to survive. I have no death wish at the moment.”

  I realized, too late, the slip of my tongue. How did I know I could trust this man, even with what he had just divulged to me? After all, he had not out-rightly denounced his loyalty to Count Basarab Musat; he was merely conferring on me a bitter rendition of past events. Yet, despite all that had happened many years ago, Max still remained in the service of one of the most formidable, dominating men I had ever heard of!

  “Die, Miss Virginia? Your fate with the count will be an eternal living hell. Only my Teresa has an eternity like his, but he still assumes complete authority over her. She will never have the power, or the ability, to prevail against him. She is nothing more than his queen, his chosen symbol of eternal status and beauty. No other will ever dethrone her. The deal was sealed in blood, and the count, such as he is, will never betray such a bargain.”

  “You keep mentioning a bargain, Max; what bargain do you speak of?” I queried.

  “Now you shall hear the truth, the rest of the story, Miss Virginia. Then you will be able to decide for yourself whether it is wiser for you to remain or to flee this place—if you are able to do so without being caught, that is.”

  I wondered, because of the statement he had just made, if there was a possibility that Max would turn his eyes for a moment.

  Max took a deep breath before he continued, “As I mentioned, Lilly finally gave in to the count’s wiles, and once she did, the count treated her as if she were dirt in a pebble-strewn field. However, instead of the quick living hell that he inflicted on the majority of his victims, he tortured my Lilly, making her suffering long, drawn out, and painful for me to look upon. He compelled her to solicit for his services. Beg she did, on her hands and knees, grovelling at his feet with less dignity than a common village whore! And then he would laugh at her and walk away, leaving her weeping on the ground.

  “I could not bear the sight of her shame. My heart shattered into a million fragments, yet there was not a thing I could do to ease her pain. All that kept me sane during this time was my little Teresa. I began to live and breathe for her alone so that I could block out what he was doing to my Lilly. There were even moments when I contemplated taking Teresa far from him, as far away as possible, but something always held me back. I just could not leave Lilly to him. Well, I did try once; I believe Teresa told you what happened then.

  “In all truth, Lilly was an innocent in the whole bizarre affair. I should have known better than to pursue a bride, let alone to have exposed her to his treatment. Therefore, I kept rationalizing that it was my duty to stay and somehow see her soul at peace. I felt increasingly helpless as time passed, for I could not conceive of anything that would free my Lilly from his demeaning grasp.”

  Tears began to seep from the corners of the old man’s eyes. His shoulders shook uncontrollably. I poured him a glass of water from the jug he had brought me and placed my arm around him. “Here, Max,” I uttered softly, “drink this.” He took the water and swallowed a few sips. “Please, tell me what happened next,” I murmured.

  Max took a moment more to recover his composure. “Next? Right ... I decided to approach the count with a plan that would free my Lilly. I was willing to go to any expense, even to sacrifice my tiny daughter’s life. I thought at the time that the most crucial issue at hand was to save my wife; I felt I would be able to save my daughter at a later date.

  “Lilly had become a walking nightmare. Where once her beautiful blue eyes had been, there were lifeless holes of darkness. Her formerly silky white skin was grey and lined with the crevices of premature aging. Her once-lithe body was now curved and broken from lack of nourishment. Her walk was that of the living dead.

  “She had to be released from that hell. I presented my proposal to the count. For a reason that really has no significance to you, I knew he would not refuse. I had been around the family long enough to see and know certain things about them.” Max’s voice shuddered to a stop.

  “Well?” I pushed him to go on.

  “I proposed that he allow Lilly to die in peace, with dignity. In return, I would give him my beautiful daughter as his bride. I knew the count would one day be taking some special lady to be his queen, so why not my Teresa? Even at the age of eight, which she was when I made this proposal, anyone with half an eye could tell she was going to be a goddess amongst the angels.

  “The count, as I expected, agreed. You see, he was growing tired of Lilly, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he either would kill her or send her away to a living hell, forever wandering the earth with a lust for blood. I could not bear the thought of some overzealous villager or farmer plunging a stake through her heart, even if that would mean an end to her miserable existence. I was sure the prospect of such a precious and pure bride would appeal to the count. He would have Teresa for his queen, and in return, he would release my Lilly from the hell he had relegated her to.

  “However, the count made two stipulations: one, the marriage ceremony would take place immediately; and two, I remain forever in his services. I agreed. The legal papers were drawn up and sealed with my blood, Teresa’s, and the count’s. He also agreed not to consummate the union with my daughter until she was of a proper age to do so. He remained true to his word, for if there is another thing he is good for, it is keeping his word!

  “I have cursed myself many times for this transaction, but it did free my Lilly from his world, and she rests in peace now. It was her life in exchange for her daughter’s. What a monster I was to have assumed such authority over my precious little Teresa!

  “So you see, Virginia, I am a damned man. No matter how you look at it, if he ever decides to release me from this world, I will burn in hell for the cowardly thing I have done to my daughter. I was never able, as I had hoped to be, to liberate her from him!”

  “This bargain you struck—was it necessary? What I mean is, could he not have had Teresa anyway, any time he desired to take her?” I asked.

  “Of course he could have seduced her, but not to be his queen. You see, with his kind, their queen could not be one of the typical victims. First, she had to come to him of her own free will. This Teresa did at the age of eight. In a child’s way, she worshipped him because I had never given her any reason not to. Actually, I dared not for fear of what would happen to Lilly. Teresa was too young to remember the count’s treatment of me when I had made my one attempt at escape. I never divulged to her the true extent of his atrocities toward her mother who, by this time in Teresa’s life, was nothing more than a shadowy memory. Besides, the count had doted on Teresa, providing her with the best that living could afford. To her, he was wonderful, the provider of all that was beautiful in her life.

  “Secondly, the bride had to be pure and innocent, not yet touched by any other man. Of course, these criteria my Teresa also fulfilled. Adding that to her exquisite beauty, she was the perfect bride. Thus was the bargain sealed—her fate and mine!”

  I had asked Teresa why it was that her father was still alive, and she had not been forthcoming on the details. I felt that if anyone should know, it would be Max. I decided to ask him. “How is it that you still live, Max?”

  He looked at me and shook his head. “If I were to tell you that, both of our lives would be ended. You do not want to know such secrets, Virginia. You really do not want to know!”

  “Are there others like you?”

  “Yes. But I will not discuss this further. The walls have eyes and ear
s. Let it go, and do not ask me, or Teresa, again.” Max looked away.

  I was dumbfounded. What a story! I had thought things like this only happened in the movies. Vampires were not real. They were imaginary individuals made up for the entertainment industry. Vampires were box-office hits. I still prayed that this was all a dream, and yet, somewhere deep within the recesses of my mind, I knew that it was not. It was all as real as the old man who stood before me.

  Max cleared the dishes away. “Your breakfast is cold now, Virginia. I will warm it up for you and return shortly.”

  “Max,” I gripped his arm. “Are there others here in the house?”

  “No, Virginia. You are quite alone; we are quite alone. On occasion, if the count is entertaining, we have hired help for a day, or an evening, but other than that ...” Max waved a limp hand in the air and left the room.

  He returned half an hour later with a fresh meal. “Just leave the dishes when you are finished; I will get them later,” Max mentioned on his way out the door. He paused a moment as though he had forgotten something. He gazed around the room, and I noticed that something in one of the corners had caught his attention. My heart did a flip as I realized what was there. Max walked to the place of interest, stooped over, and picked up the necklace. “I almost forgot; the count asked me to retrieve and destroy this,” he said as he slipped my cross into his pocket.

  I dawdled over the eggs and sipped the hot coffee. What was I going to do? I could still feel the warmth floating through my body from the night before, but somehow, after my conversation with Max, it had turned into a chill that was slowly freezing the blood in my veins. And now I had also foolishly allowed my cross, my possible salvation, to slip from my possession!

  I needed sleep. Sleep would refresh me and clear my mind so I could get back on track with my original plan to escape.

  What was it Max had said earlier? I should decide whether it was wiser to remain or to flee. Could that mean he was going to turn his eyes from such an attempt? I would sleep on that thought. Sleep made a person strong because it nourished both mind and body with such loving care ... that is if it was a peaceful sleep.

  I decided to finish my meal, and after a good slumber, I would be able to make some sense of the whole bizarre affair! I hoped.

  Family History

  Chapter Eight

  History doth whisper the stories of old

  Of why the vampire’s blood runs cold,

  History whispers of a youthful man

  Whose soul the old Gypsy damned;

  History doth whisper the stories of old

  Why he and his loved ones are so cold,

  Of battles won, of loves lost

  And of all their horrific costs!

  T he evening meal was over. Max had served it in silence; however, I could not help noticing his questioning eyes whenever he glanced my way. Teresa had been unusually quiet, too. Only the count had seemed in good spirits, and he had constantly cast his beguiling smile toward me. However, one thing that nagged at me was whether it was a smile filled with love or one denoting victory.

  “Let us retire to the study, ladies. I have some fabulous news to impart to both of you.” The count stood, bowed graciously, and then motioned us through the dining room door.

  Once in the study, Teresa and I settled into chairs, one on each side of the count. The count sat down, folded his hands elegantly against the bottom of his chin, and opened the conversation. “It has been some time since we have entertained, has it not, Teresa?”

  “Yes, Count, it has,” Teresa answered, an unusual huskiness in her voice.

  “I believe it is time for a party, especially now that we have something to celebrate—right, Virginia?” He smiled at me.

  I was baffled. Was there something to celebrate that I should be aware of? I was not sure what the count was suggesting, so I simply nodded my head, leaving him the floor so that he could enlighten us further.

  The count turned to Teresa. “You see, Teresa darling, Virginia is the one I have chosen to bear me a son—excuse my slip, us a son,” he corrected. “The time for this event is long overdue, and unfortunately, since you had been unable to bear a child for me before you crossed over, I am forced to settle for an alternate vessel. I am sure this circumstance is of no real surprise to you since we have discussed it many times in the past.”

  The count, as though it really did not matter to him what Teresa thought, did not even give her an opportunity to reply, even though this issue affected her life, probably more so than it would affect his. “By the time the baby arrives,” he continued, “all the necessary arrangements will have been made, and we will be able to introduce our son to the world in the true ancient custom of my people.”

  I was absolutely stunned. I also noticed how the count had referred to his people—did that mean Teresa might not actually be like him? That would not make sense, though.

  “But Count,” I managed to stammer. “How do you know I am pregnant?”

  He smiled: warm and sweet—cold and chilling. “I know, Virginia darling, I know!” His voice had an assuredness to it that could not be refuted. He turned his attention back to Teresa, dismissing me as if I no longer existed. I had facilitated his purpose, and Teresa, as Max had warned me, the number one lady in his world. He said to her, “I will furnish you with a list of all whom I wish to attend the ceremonies. You should be able to get in touch with them well before the eve of the birth of our child. That is when the first celebration will commence. Virginia will assist you as long as she is able. It will do her good to learn of our ways, and it will also occupy her time while she awaits the delivery. However, please remember that you are always to remain in charge.”

  The count glanced in the direction of the window. “I must go now, or I will be late for the party. I am sure my friends will not forgive my absence twice in a row. They take an enormous risk for me, even though their rewards are substantial.” He laughed sarcastically, giving the impression that he truly did not care what his friends thought. I was also sure that, if need be, whoever these people were, they could be easily replaced—even the special friend he had spoken of to me.

  “I will see you both at supper tomorrow evening,” he added as he left the room.

  A queasy feeling crept over me. I noticed that Teresa was studying me hard. “So, Virginia, you gave in, did you?” Her voice was filled with sarcasm. “Of course, I cannot say I blame you for surrendering yourself to such a man as my husband, but it took you longer than most. What I mean is that all the others were too easy; they succumbed to his spell immediately. None of them attempted the foolish escapes you did. In all truthfulness, though, this reluctance of yours has probably temporarily saved your life, for the count is unable to tolerate such weaknesses as the others displayed. He prefers some spirit in his women.” Teresa’s tone was harsh. And she was talking as though she did not care that her husband had affairs with other women—numerous other women!

  “The count’s son must have a strong mother, for she will have to be able to deal with the task set before her.” Was that cynicism I detected in her voice? Teresa stood up from her chair. “I have matters which need my attention. Please,” she waved her hand around the room, “make yourself at home, for that is what this place shall be to you for awhile. There are many books here on the shelves, should you enjoy reading. I do not particularly enjoy such a pastime. There is quite a variety here that might be of interest to you—especially this one.”

  Teresa pulled a book off the shelf and handed it to me. Unlike the other hardcover books, this one was bound in leather. I glanced inside it. It appeared to be a diary of some sort. “I shall see you tomorrow evening,” Teresa stated. “And don’t even dream of attempting another escape, for Max, or I, shall never be far away,” she added as she strutted from the room, leaving me alone with the book in my hand and with my thoughts.

  Alone? No, I was not alone anymore. It was there. His seed grew within me. My plan had not succee
ded. Unlike Teresa’s insinuation of my resistance to his wiles, I knew the count had conquered me without any real immense struggle. I felt sure, wherever he was at the moment, if he were even thinking of me, he was most likely mocking me. He was probably laughing at the foolish little trollop who had thought she could con such a powerful man.

  I glanced at the title of the book Teresa had selected: History of the Musat Family. How interesting, I thought as I opened it up and began to read.

  ~

  The fate of our family has been sealed with that of Vlad Dracula. Time, action, and blood have forged our souls together for an eternity in hell. Now that this fact has been confirmed in my mind, I feel it is time to record certain events that led up to the horrific demise that has befallen our royal families. The God that we once prayed to in the great cathedrals of Wallachia, Transylvania, and Moldavia has totally forsaken us, and the witches of Satan have cursed us with a never-ending night.

  My name is Atilla Musat. The year is 1480. I was born in Moldavia in 1434. My parents were Ilias and Maria Musat. My first cousin was Stephen, also known as Stephen the Great, whose parents were Bogdan II and Oltea. Not only was my Aunt Oltea related to the Dracul family by blood, a cousin I believe, but my Aunt Eupraxia, a sister of my father, was married to Vlad Dracul, the father of Dracula, who in later years became known as the Impaler. With all of this intermingling of families, one could say that we, Stephen, Dracula, and I, were cousins. Therefore, we spent many of our early years together being educated in the fine art of becoming true princes of the land.

  Our fathers were all members of the Order of Dragons, an organization sworn to the preservation and protection of Christianity. However, when I think about my childhood, I realize that neither my father nor my uncles exhibited much reverence for the Christian church, other than homage just sufficient to obtain her eternal blessings and the abundant benefits of her purse. Of the three, my dear uncle Vlad Dracul was the worst. He became so obsessed with his power that he even minted his own coin. The sons of the men of the Order of the Dragon inherited all that went with that symbol, and more. Of the “more”, I will speak later.