by Renee Lake
He found several coffins, he opened each one with the speed of a younger man, but each was empty and his disappointment grew. He reached the last casket, his eyes searching the dim for more, where could the vampires be? They had to have fallen into their death sleep when the sun rose.
He let out a small cry of joy as the last box held not just dirt but the little blonde vampire. He lifted the stake high in the air and brought it slamming down into the creature’s chest. The stake didn’t go in easily, that much tissue, sinew and bone created a struggle for the old man to reach the heart. The vampire opened her eyes and began to wail, raking his arms with her broken finger nails. He put is weight behind the act and watched with glee as the light died in her eyes and she went lax underneath him, blood sluggishly weeping from the wound. Breath seemed to leave her lungs, her back bowed and in grim fascination he watched as she turned to dust and blew away.
Feeling satisfaction he froze as he heard a slow clapping coming from behind him. He turned, gradually, and the satisfaction became fear as he found the other two Brides standing behind him, awake, and smiling.
“Thank you for dispatching Lily for us. We couldn’t have her running around free, she was quite insane,” the red head said. Van Helsing only had a moment to panic before they were on him, the brunette held him down while the other lowered her mouth to his struggling person.
Siobhan’s fangs sank into his soft wrinkled skin and wrinkled her nose. His blood tasted ancient and kind of dusty like a dirty coin. Siobhan expected nothing else from such a dry old codger, but she enjoyed it nonetheless, relished in the hot liquid gushing over her tongue and the feeling of his heart beat fading and his body giving into death.
“Hey, save some for me.” Marisol brought Siobhan back to herself.
“Of course, like I would deny my sister.” She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, “finish him and let’s get the hell out of here, I’m tired.”
***
Dracula paused, inside the casket that was being bounced through the pass to Bran Castle, as he felt Lily’s death. There was a bit of grief in him but also relief. Siobhan and Marisol would be fine, but Lily, she had to have a keeper, releasing her was easier said than done.
Master, Lily is gone and so is the old man. Marisol’s voice floated into his mind.
I know.
Should we kill the girl that was with him, it is still early enough in the morning, the sun will not hurt us too much, yet.
Dracula struggled with this thought, he had felt Mina all night, begging him to come to her, save her. He had not communicated with her once, he had tried to block out the sound of her voice in his mind, her feelings of cold, fear and how much she wanted him. Even this morning she was there in his mind asking where he was, telling him how afraid she was becoming.
No do not kill the girl, sleep now you have done well.
Are we free to go tonight?
Yes, there is money in the safe, enough for the two of you to live very comfortably for a few years. Take anything else you wish.
The communication cut off and he wondered if that would be the last time he would speak to either her or Siobhan.
Dracula felt a rather nasty bump in the road and focused on the task ahead. He could sense all the people around him, several of his faithful servants as well as Renata and Imre. He closed his eyes and waited, battle was coming.
It was many hours later that Dracula felt exactly when Costica and his little army arrived; he could hear the sounds of combat and smell blood, sweat and fear even from his box. Then the lid opened, they expected him to be asleep, but he could not go to his death without seeing which of the mortals would be the one to dispatch him. Bright sunlight hit him and he cringed, he was too old for it to kill him, but it wasn’t pleasant.
He opened his eyes and saw Quincy Morris staring down at him, appalled. Dracula bared his fangs and gripped the sides of his coffin while the man hesitated. He sucked in a breath, the Texan had the golden Rhomphaia! Dracula spared a second to frown was the fool really going to try and stab him with it? He wished there was time to laugh; Costica had misunderstood what the weapon would actually do to him. He braced himself as Quincy drove it into his chest. Dracula let out a howl and reached up punching the other man in the face, Quincy went flying back and Dracula faded away leaving nothing but a film of dust in the box.
A woman screamed in protest, her back to the onslaught. Costica, who had been watching with glee as Dracula died, approached her.
“I see you Nea, I guess now it our time, our personal confrontation,” Costica said, stepping over Quincy’s prone body. He cared not for the Texan and barely registered Jonathan and Jack running to Quincy’s aid.
“I guess it is,” she said quietly.
“Your husband is dead with the weapon he was searching for I hope it was worth it.”
“I know what happened to him.”
“Agree to be mine and this can all end,” Costica felt pride swell in his chest; finally he was getting what he deserved.
“I cannot,” she whispered.
“Then you shall die here. I shall take your body home with me and wait for you to revive and I will keep you prisoner.”
“Bendis would never allow it.”
“I can hide you from your pitiful Goddess, now turn around and face your new master,” Costica commanded.
She turned around, but it wasn’t Nea, it was another woman, now that he was paying attention he could see she was much plumper than his Nea.
“What?! Who are you? A trick!” he wailed. He struck her down with his magic a second before a pair of powerful arms grabbed him from behind holding him in place.
“Sabine, see to Renata!”
Costica focused on the words as Nea appeared before him, he saw her red headed slut friend run to the other woman, “She is dead,” he laughed. “This trick killed your friend and for what? So I can again elude you.”
“Not this time, Costica.” A rough voice growled from behind him and Costica realized that Imre was holding him, a shiver of alarm went down his spine as where Imre touched him began to burn.
“You cannot hold me Imre, I am more powerful than you I will get…”
He never had time to finish the sentence. They had played their cards well and with a slash Nea severed his head from his body stopping his tongue and his life in less than a second. A crimson spray hit Nea, staining her skin and dress. His head rolled a few feet away and Nea looked down at it, noting the surprised expression as magic and life faded from the now dead Strigoi.
“It’s over now, Costica.” She breathed in the evening air, seeing that the sun was beginning to set. For the first time in years she felt free, almost forgetting that the larger picture still had to be fixed, the curse, but this stressful time with Costica dodging her every step was finished.
“I am going to go, if you don’t need me,” Imre grinned, wiping yellow dust off his hands onto his trousers.
“Thank you for your help. If you hadn’t gone to see Ion or watched Costica for me, we never would have known that smearing your hands with St. John’s Wart would help you hold him, or that an iron blade would kill him.” Nea held out her hand and Imre placed his in hers, “you are, as always, faithful.”
“No reason why I shouldn’t be. I’ll take the ugly fairy’s body into the woods and properly destroy it.”
Nea watched as he walked into the forest, and cleaned off her sword on her dress, it wasn’t like she could ever wear it again anyway.
“Nea!” Sabine called. Nea rushed to Renata’s side, her friend was dying, slowly, but whatever Costica had done neither she nor Sabine could fix it. Marina might have been able to, but she was currently on her way to America to join Stasi and Mihail.
“I don’t want to die,” Renata wheezed.
“I know, I am sorry.” Nea leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“You don’t have to.” Sabine had an idea.
“What?” Nea looked at her best friend.
/>
“We can summon Hecate, Renata could become a Strega.”
“What do you think?” Nea leaned down to hear her dying friend’s words, they were a faint whisper but it was a; yes.
It was as if Bendis had been listening for she showed up as Renata finished speaking. Her foxes ran around the three women yipping excitedly.
“You shall make a good Strega, Renata, you have been very loyal.” Bendis leaned down, her hand old and wrinkled, and touched Renata’s face. Renata’s eyes flew open, color and spark filling them, she took a deep breath as the pain left and her soul was forced deep into her body and away from death. Nea and Sabine sat back on their heels, each taking a hand and then helped Renata to stand.
“It’s a little weird, but you’ll get used to it. That’s Lesson 8 and it’s on the house,” Sabine laughed.
“I must take her from you now, she has much to learn.” Bendis put an arm around Renata.
“One moment.” Renata went to Nea and Sabine and leaned in, grabbing them in a large hug. Sabine began to pull away and Renata whispered, low enough not to be over heard by Bendis, “I am going to go to Greece. I think I can be helpful to you there and find those flowers, help break the curse.”
Nea gave a short nod and embraced the other woman back. Renata said goodbye and walked to Bendis, ready to go. The Goddess frowned, knowing she had missed something, but not sure what.
“You will see them again my Strega.” Bendis touched her shoulder and whisked them away.
“Wait where did those other two white boys go?” Sabine raised an eyebrow as she looked around.
“They fled to find Mina.”
Dracula stood before them, unharmed. Nea was relieved, he held out his arms to her and she faltered.
“She called to me all night and I still chose you. I will always choose you. Do not make me beg woman, I will only say I am sorry so many times.”
Nea ran into his arms, feeling secure as he began to rub her back. She sighed, smelling him and rubbing her cheek against his cloak as it rested on his chest.
“And the girls?”
“Lily is dead. Siobhan has already left, with enough money, jewels and antiques to see her through the next decade. Marisol is still at the castle, I do not think she knows what to do or where to go,” Vlad told her.
“Don’t push her, I can understand her fear. Besides I can’t be with you yet and I don’t want you to be lonely.”
“I am going to stay in Transylvania, I have the Rhomphaia and already I can feel my anger and blood lust leaking away. I shall await the day we can be together. I will see you when our granddaughter is born.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against the corner of her mouth, causing her heart to flutter in her chest. He twirled the weapon in one hand, showing it off. With a swirl of his cape he was gone and Nea then faced a rather angry looking Sabine.
“What the hell was that about? You being with him again? What nonsense are you guys spewing?”
“I told him that once I broke the curse I would come back to him. It was the only way to get him to leave Lucy alone and release his Brides,” Nea admitted.
“Absurd! You can’t go back to him and that life Nea, it’s not who you are!” Sabine exclaimed.
“I love him, always have. Once I have lifted the curse why shouldn’t I be happy?” Nea didn’t understand her friend’s anger.
“Hecate will never allow it. She will kill him before she allows you to be with him. Her hate for the undead is a powerful thing. You are going to get yourself killed alongside him!” Sabine was shouting now.
“Lesson 10: We cannot die in a very literal sense.” Nea was getting irate, why couldn’t her friend understand she wanted to be with Vlad, had missed him for centuries.
“I wish I had mentioned this sooner,” Sabine took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down, “Lesson 34; Hecate can kill you, it’s the only way you can die.”
“Then she can kill me. I have made my decision.” Nea’s words were harsh, no argument.
“And I cannot support it. I’m sorry Nea.” Sabine stormed off.
Nea stood, silently, not understanding what had just happened. Closing her eyes and praying for wisdom and peace, she knew she couldn’t worry about Sabine, Vlad or even Hecate right now. She had a pregnant daughter and anxious son to get back to. It was time for her to live in America with them and prepare for the birth.
Chapter 19
August 1903, New York
“What are you reading?” Nea asked coming into the library of their town home in New York City. Mihail was perched on the desk leafing through a novel.
“That book by Stoker.” He grunted, eyes focused.
“Looking for something interesting in that trash heap?” Nea asked amused as she pulled on her gloves. She was taking Daniela to see Jenica today, a present for her tenth birthday.
“Any mention of you.” He glanced up, eyes focused on his mother dressed to go out.
“Stasi won’t like you taking her before her birthday supper,” he warned.
“It’s been planned for years and your daughter is anxious to meet her great grandmother, other members of her blood.” Nea walked over and planted a kiss on Mihail’s forehead, “and there isn’t any mention of me, I told you that when it came out in 1897. Your father gave me an advanced copy.”
“You should be mentioned,” Mihail grumbled, he’d never actually sat down and read the book. He had to admit it was a little dry, nothing like the novels he and Stasi read to each other during the day, during their down time.
“Well, that’s what happens when your father gets drunk with a puffed up Irish man.” She pulled on her large hat, a fashion she rather enjoyed, though she could do without the corsets and bustles.
It was better that Bram Stoker had gotten most of the details wrong, better that she and her fellow Stregas had been left out. Mr. Stoker had screwed up most of the places because he decided Transylvania, Borgo Pass and the Carpathian mountains sounded so much darker and mysterious then where it all actually went down. He chose to ignore his history in favor of romanticism and fantasy, which was fine by Nea. He also made Dracula out to be the villain and favored Jonathan Harker, Mina and the lot, oh well, creative license.
“Put down that piece of fluffed up nonsense and grab one of those other books you read… Who is it again? Arthur Conan Doyle?” Nea didn’t care for mysteries. She and Daniela were currently in the middle of wonderful magical novel by Frank L Baum about a little girl who winds up in the fantastical land of Oz. Nea much preferred light fantasy to what her children chose to read.
“Yes Mom, Sherlock Holmes.” Mihail sighed, closed the book and stood, stretching his tall lanky form.
“Go get Daniela please.”
“Okay, but promise you are not taking her to see anyone but Grandma.”
“Of course not!” Nea frowned at her son’s tone, “like I would scar my granddaughter with those monsters.” As he left, Nea’s eyes drifted to the portrait above the fire place of her granddaughter. Mihail had painted it last year. Nea enjoyed every moment of the child’s life, just as she had Stasi’s and the brief time she had with Mihail as a boy. Watching the little girl grow into a precocious almost adult was wonderful.
Moving to America had been a great idea, the last ten years had been a wonderful adventure. She had taken the family to the World Fair in Paris in 1900, to see the Chicago White Sox play in 1901, and whisked them away for two months to Los Angeles in 1902 to the Electric Theatre. However, Nea could tell the adventure was at a close, it was time to get down to business.
It had started a week ago when Bendis appeared for the first time since Daniela’s birth to tell her that her vacation was up. That she had more bad news, apparently due to the nature of Daniela’s birth, she was too mortal, unlike her parents, and should she die she would wind up in Limbo, that the curse would most likely affect her even though it hadn’t Nea or Stasi.
Nea wished she could speak to Sabine about her worries, but ev
er since that night in Romania, Sabine had been out of touch, refusing communication. She sent gifts to Stasi, Mihail and Daniela, gave Ruxandra updates about where she was every few months and Nea knew she was in contact with Renata, but there was nothing but silence to Nea herself. It saddened her that her best friend was still so angry, but it also made her furious that Sabine had withdrawn her friendship over a man, and an event that hadn’t even happened yet.
“Bunica, you are going to shred that book.”
Nea looked down at the book, Dracula, she hadn’t realized she’d picked it up. She placed it down and focused her attention at her great-granddaughter, “Ruxandra, you’re here.” She smiled, she had been good to her word and given the girl and estate of her own in California, thinking she would like to be around the glittering throng of new people showing up there with their countless ideas and inventions.
“You asked me to come.” The women embraced and Nea felt a little more joy in her heart at the sight of Ruxandra’s content face.
“I need to feed before seeing my mother and thought you could stay here with Stasi and Mihail while I am away.”
“Happy to do both. Needed a bit of a vacation and New York is a bustling city.” Ruxandra held out her hand and Nea grasped it, feeling all the extra content and happiness Ruxandra had been soaking in recently. She drew it away, like sipping good tea with cream and sugar, feeling it warm her up.
“Thank you. Why don’t you go let Marina know you’re here, I know you love her pot roast, maybe she’ll make it for dinner,” Nea laughed.
“Have a good trip Bunica.” Ruxandra blew her a kiss before leaving the room.
“Are you ready to go, Grandma?” A breathless little voice bounced in the room ahead of its owner. The girl attached to the voice was a thin dusky skinned girl, with straight strawberry blonde hair cut into a bobbed style and large almost black eyes, a stunning combination of mother and father.