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

by Mary M. Cushnie-mansour

  I have no recollection of how long I sat there, but I was jolted back to reality by the rattle of the key in my lock. I jumped to my feet and twirled around. “Max?”

  The door opened, and there stood Max, holding my fussing son. He handed him to me and then moved quickly to the windows to shut the curtains. “I apologize for my tardiness, Virginia. I must have drifted off and overslept the hour of the child’s feeding.”

  Max smiled, but I was sure I detected a hint of malice on his weathered old face. “The baby woke me with his crying; I hurried as quickly as was possible for my tired old body.” Once again, he smiled. “I trust that you were not too alarmed?”

  Max’s final statement was issued in an I-don’t-need-an-answer tone. I got the impression that it did not matter one iota that I had been alarmed. Max had said he was tired? Since when had he ever been so tired that he fell asleep while on duty? The Max I was familiar with seemed to be available to wait on this family, or me, at any hour of the day or night. Was this the same Max who now complained of a tired old body? Or was it a Max who was up to no good?

  “Alarmed? Max, I have been beside myself! Did you not hear me screaming and pounding on this door?”

  “It is a very large house, Miss Virginia, and I do not sleep near your room anymore, now that you are up here. As a matter of fact, I dozed off in the baby’s room, which is situated in another wing,” Max stated as he handed me my son. “Here is the child for his feeding. I shall return shortly for him.”

  Max offered me no further information as to the exact proximity of my son’s room; nor, did he offer an explanation as to why my son had been removed from my room. “Return for him? What do you mean? Where are his things? Why has he been removed from my room? What is going on here?” I was trying to demand a satisfactory answer!

  “You have too many questions all the time, Virginia, and you keep asking those who have no answers. All I have are my orders, orders that I must obey, and answer to if I don’t.” Max looked worried.

  “Your orders? Who is it that gave these orders? The count is the one who allowed the child to be with me. Who has dared to disregard his wishes?” I demanded to know.

  “It was the Count Basarab Musat who gave the order. Who else?” Max answered as he turned to leave the room.

  “I thought that maybe Teresa—” I did not get a chance to finish my statement.

  “No, my dear Virginia ... it was not Teresa. It was the man whom you think you have conquered.” Max shut the door as he left.

  What was going on here? One minute the count allowed me my son, the next he ordered him removed. What kind of game was he playing now, and where was this round leading? To my death?

  Santan bunted at my breast and began to whimper. “Okay, okay,” I snapped. Oblivious to the sticky liquid that had saturated my clothing, I undid the buttons on my gown and settled my son for his meal. All the while Santan fed, my mind kept racing, trying to figure my way out of the maze I was deeply entangled in. I’d thought I had gained so much ground, even to the point I had actually been anticipating some kind of victory. Now there had surfaced another heinous force, so potent, so tireless—a force which seemed to have pushed me back to square one, shattering all my hopes!

  Max returned, too soon, for Santan. He took him from my arms and left without saying a word. I heard the lock click, closing me once again into desolate loneliness. In despair, I turned to the window, desperately searching the outside shadows for a hint of beckoning freedom.

  Nothing. Nothing but grass, shrubs, flowers, and huge, grotesque trees. Their knurled old trunks blocked me from the world I had once known. It seemed I had been here an eternity.

  Hours must have passed as I stood there, motionless. The sun bid me goodnight through the top branches of my captive fortress as she drifted away to her other world. With her departure, I remained behind in the dark world that was slowly consuming my soul, piece by tiny piece.

  ~

  I whiled away three lonely, desolate days. My meals were brought to my room. Santan was left with me only long enough for his feedings. Nothing more was mentioned as to the reason for this turn of events. Tonight Santan would be two weeks old. I knew the family would be preparing for the naming ceremony. I wondered if I would be allowed to attend, or if I was to remain locked in my room.

  I did not understand this roller-coaster ride the count was taking me on. Also, since Santan had been removed from my room, my excursions on the widow’s walk had been cancelled. Max told me the count had ordered me confined to my room. Had he become anxious that someone might see me, or I them? Did he fear that I would cry out? I continued to ponder this turn of events. Were these constant changes the count’s actions, or just more of Teresa’s deceptions?

  I glanced out my window. The sun was disappearing behind the trees once again. Dark clouds were gathering in the sky, constructing bizarre figures that scurried along as though in a hurry to be somewhere else. I imagined them to be the ancient gods of Olympus. I wondered if they were mocking me from their heavenly roosts, mocking me for the foolishness of my present predicament. The moon woke up; I noticed his sinister smile as he began the celebration of his most gargantuan night of the month.

  Would this also be my biggest night yet? Would this be the night I would discover what my destiny was to be? I gazed around at the walls of my prison. I looked at the bed I had slept in for most of the past year, at the bed where I had made love to someone who had consumed me as I could never have imagined possible. I looked at the large oak door that had kept me prisoner whenever it pleased Count Basarab Musat to do so.

  Why did he treat me this way? Was it that he truly did not have a heart, even after I had given him the son he so desired? However, I realized I had not had much of a choice in that matter. I had been impregnated without being consulted. Then I had foolishly tried to use my pregnancy to win him over—to win over a man I should have known I was no match for.

  The question now was: What would happen later tonight? Had I not promised the count I would be his once again? Had he not accepted my offer with delighted anticipation? Had he not told me how much he looked forward to our liaison? But dark, diabolical shadows kept clouding my pleasant thoughts. I wondered if this would be the final sacrifice I would have to make—before my end.

  I had heard Count Atilla inform Basarab that he must come home to settle some business, and he had made it sound quite urgent. Aunt Emelia had confirmed this. However, I had not noticed any preparations for a trip, so how soon was he actually leaving? And what would this mean for me and my son? Would I be going with them, to care for Santan? If matters were that urgent, most likely they could not wait until the baby was weaned, although there was the possibility that the good doctor had another drink concoction that could replace my milk.

  The ideal situation would be if they would leave me here with the child, under the ever-watchful eyes of Max. If I had only him to contend with, perhaps I could manage to escape. As always, I was faced with numerous maybes. I could not find one definitive answer to any of the many questions circulating in my mind.

  The key turned in my door. Max entered my room with Santan in one arm, and a crimson gown draped over the other. He paused for a moment in the doorway. We studied one another, as though we were just two old friends who were meeting up after years of separation, neither one knowing where to begin the conversation.

  I wished I could read his mind. I wondered just how far Max would go in tempting the count’s rage, in order to secure Teresa’s place in the count’s household.

  “The baby, Miss Virginia,” Max stated as he walked over to me.

  He relinquished Santan into my arms. “The count desires your presence at the ceremony tonight. He has sent along this dress for you to wear.” Max handed me the gown.

  I laid both baby and gown on the bed and then turned to Max. He had to help me; I prayed for just this one little miracle. Surely, in my short life, I had not transgressed against God so much that he wou
ld not grant me this one small request! “Max,” I commenced to speak—hesitantly, though, for I was still unsure how to approach him, yet again, on this matter.

  “Yes?” he replied, much too calmly for my liking. It was as though he knew what I was about to ask.

  “What is going to happen to me, Max? Surely you have heard something while passing through the corridors of this house. You have been with the count for so long that you must have an idea of the outcome of a situation like mine.”

  “What is going to happen to you, Virginia? Honestly, I do not know. Your situation, as you put it, is as new to me as it is to you. No other woman has ever borne the count a son. Then again, one never knows what the Count Basarab Musat has up his sleeve from one minute to the next. He is as changeable as the weather: calm and serene for a time, allowing one to grow comfortable in the luxury of his kindness, and then, suddenly, he will turn angry and fierce before one can realize he has changed. He is the master of all the destinies that surround him. He moulds his household to suit his present needs and desires. Past experiences have strengthened his resolve to make sure nothing and no one beset his kind again. If they should try, they will not succeed.

  “So beware, Virginia; I emphasize this fact to you: no one person, no matter who they might be, is ever sure where he or she stands with Count Basarab Musat. He truly is the most powerful of his kind, and he maintains the position of leader not just because of the Gypsy curse! It is not through being soft that he sustains his leadership, either, regardless of Emelia’s stories. She has always been partial to Basarab, no matter what he did. But, of course, you know her so well now, don’t you—you might even trust her?” Max smiled an uncharacteristic smile. “But, back to the count; as I said, he has as many moods as the clouds have designs, and these moods usually dictate whatever his will is at that particular moment!”

  Max paused. He drew closer to me and laid his wizened old hands on my shoulders. “Be assured, Virginia, that the count is aware of your little game. If both Teresa and I suspect you, do you really believe for a moment that you have fooled him? He has the capacity to read minds—be certain he has read yours! You will never know what has hit you if he becomes weary of your antics. In the snap of a finger, it will be over!

  “In a way, I pity you. You stumbled into this situation purely by accident, out of curiosity, in fact, but we all know what happens to a curious cat, don’t we?” Max’s voice took on a mocking tone.

  Max was constantly emphasizing the count’s changeable moods, yet his own seemed to constantly change! One minute he was sarcastic, the next deeply concerned. Then he would mock me. Which of his temperaments was I to put my trust in? Or should I even be contemplating such a thing? Did I have a choice?

  “Max, if you overheard that the count was going to dispose of me, would you warn me in time? Maybe even help me to escape?” These were questions to which I needed an affirmative answer, but Max was still being difficult to read as to which way his loyalty might sway.

  I found that out quickly, when Max’s face took on a bitter look. “Why should I help you, Virginia, after all the pain you have caused the only one who has my heart? Your ploys have hurt my Teresa much more than you think. She is fighting for her sheer existence, especially where the count’s father is concerned. He was quite taken by you; but then, you already know that, don’t you? The count Atilla enjoys a woman with a vibrant spirit and strong willpower; and, like his son, he is not able to tolerate such weak displays of jealous outrage as my Teresa has displayed of late. I actually overheard a conversation Atilla had with Basarab, suggesting that maybe he should keep you around a bit longer. However, if I might add this warning: also like his son, he soon tires of those who insist on playing charades.”

  “You speak only of the pain I have caused Teresa,” I whispered huskily, “but have you forgotten about the pain that the Count Basarab Musat has inflicted upon you?” My mind was working swiftly. I had a sinking feeling that these moments were my last chance. If I could touch that one vulnerable part of Max, maybe I could gain his help.

  “Think of Lilly, Max. Think of the life that you could have had with Lilly and Teresa—as a real family. Think of that, and then remember what bones the count flung to you instead, cast as most people would throw scraps to a stray dog at their door! He has made your life nothing more than an existence filled with servitude and loneliness. That is all he gave to you! He took your daughter from you, even though you claim you gave her to him, as part of the bargain to save your wife. I do not see that she even respects you! I know she has no respect for her mother, your Lilly—she told me so.

  “Think of the picnics you three could have had on a quiet riverbank, or outings to the theatre. Think of the passion between you and Lilly, the joy you felt when you shared the knowledge of Teresa’s conception, and then the moment of her birth! Think of what a beautiful child Teresa was—yours and Lilly’s child! And when you have remembered all of this, keep in mind that it was the Count Basarab Musat who ripped it all away from you. And for what? For a whim, because you had something he did not!

  “Now, ask yourself if it would not be worth it, just once, to take revenge on the count. To taste the sweetness of his pain, by taking something from him that he values. To have victory over him. Would not that be worth it, Max? Wouldn’t it?”

  “You have no right to speak like this, Miss Virginia! How could you possibly know how I feel?”

  I could tell I had struck a chord. Max was visibly shaken by my words. I had disturbed his cobwebbed mind. My mission had been accomplished. Now all I needed to do was add more mortar to the fortress I was creating.

  “I do know how you feel, Max, because I have loved. Yes, I admit, without any reservations, that I love him. I also know the count is evil, and that is why I wish to flee from him. I appear to have no control over this love I feel. It is a lust that eats away at my soul night and day. It picks at my brain like crows attacking a straw man in a corn field. When he is with me I have no willpower; I am weakened in both mind and body by what he does to me—just as he did to your Lilly. Then I detest myself after it is over, probably in much the same way as your precious Lilly did. I hate him. I loathe him. I love him. I need him!

  “Is not love one of the strangest emotions? The Count Basarab Musat did the same thing to Lilly as he has done to me.” I reiterated the count’s annihilation of Lilly. It was the only way I could think of to keep driving my point home. “He totally confused her mind with his overwhelming powers. She did not know what she wanted anymore, he had so befuddled her. He probably even threatened her by telling her he would harm you should she resist him. I think, because she loved you so much, that threat would have broken down what little resistance she might have had left, leaving her totally vulnerable to his oppressive authority.”

  I paused for breath and to allow my words to sink into Max’s mind. If ever I were to take the plunge, it had to be now. Max’s face had drained of all colour, but his eyes were filled with the fury of the eye of a hurricane!

  “Yes, Max,” I continued. “You and Teresa have guessed correctly. I have been playing a game; it is called the game of survival! I am sorry for what has happened to Teresa, I truly am, but I had no choice. Don’t forget, Max, I have also given birth to a child. You know what it is like to have your child taken from you! Look at what you have done in order to remain by her side all these years.

  “You submit to his anger, and you allow him to humiliate you every day of your existence. I have no idea what would happen to you if you were to help me; I am not even sure whether I would be able to take my son with me, but at least I will have my life. Maybe one day I could set out to find my child, and when I found him I would tell him I had not abandoned him by choice. I could tell him I love him, just as you can tell Teresa every day that you love her. As one parent to another, can you not find it in your heart to do this for me?” My eyes were damp from emotion.

  Max spoke slowly, as though hesitant to say what w
as on his mind. “After your son has spent any amount of time in his father’s company, he will be so much like him that he will not care for you any more than he would care for a strumpet on the streets. He will be unable to love, truly love; nor will it be important to him to know that you love him.

  “But, if I was to help you, and I say only if I was, it would be exclusively my way to thank you for giving my Teresa a child. You would have to flee far from here and start a new life. You should never seek to retrieve the child, not for any other reason either, because ...”

  Max never finished that statement. He went on, though, rambling off in another direction: “He may decide to leave you alone if you do not take the child. You are still young and remarkably beautiful. I am sure you would have no problem finding yourself a nice young man to marry. You would be able to have more children. Before long, you would forget this entire ordeal. I must consult with Teresa on this matter. She will instruct me as to the right thing to do.”

  I could not camouflage the shock on my face. Teresa! He was going to consult her! She could not be trusted. What would stop her from going to the count, thus ending my life immediately? She was so angry and upset with me that I feared she might betray even her father in order to see me burn in hell!

  “Max, please! This must be our secret! You know things have not been exactly the greatest between me and Teresa. Even if she were to understand that I just wanted to leave, she might slip and reveal our plan. You can do this while they sleep. I am sure you could come up with a plausible excuse for how I got out, and if I leave my son behind, it will go better for you. It is best for both of us if this conversation stays within this room. Please, Max!” I was praying that he would help me and not bring Teresa into the matter.

  “I shall think on it, Virginia, but remember—I promise you nothing.” Max turned to leave. “I must go. The count will wonder what is taking me so long, and you need to get ready for the ceremony, as well.”