We must have spoken for hours, because fatigue soon settled over me. It became increasingly difficult to fight off, no matter how much I raked my fingernails over my skin to draw blood. Sleep would be dangerous; it would return us to the dark recesses of our minds.
“Abe,” I said faintly, as my eyes began to droop. The lulls in our conversation had grown longer with time. “We must stay awake. Abe?”
He didn’t respond. Despite my rising panic, my desire to call out his name and wake him, my fatigue was even stronger…I could no longer fight it.
“You are quite impressive, Ghyslaine.”
Bathory’s voice pulled me from my slumber. My eyes flew open, and I recoiled. Bathory was in the room with me, cradling me in her lap as if I were a child. I wanted to scramble away from her, to cry out in terror, but she had me paralyzed in her arms.
“No human has ever been able to remove themselves from my thrall,” she continued, appraising me with intrigue. “I adore a challenge. I shall break you, Wilhelmina.”
She glanced at the door, and it opened. Hatred twisted through me when I saw Matyas enter with another large vampire. I’d instinctively known that he would ally himself with Bathory. If only we had the opportunity to kill him at the ball.
But I didn’t have time to focus on my hatred; he and the other vampire dragged Abe, Seward, Emma, and a bound Gabriel and Anara inside, tossing them to the floor. Bathory dismissed Matyas and the other vampire with a flick of her hand, and they left the room.
Despite her bound wrists and legs, Anara started to charge forward with a fierce snarl, but Bathory stilled her with a look, and Anara flew back against the wall. The others were paralyzed as well when Bathory’s eyes flitted over them.
She returned her attention to me, smiling as she eased me off her lap and propped my frozen body up against the wall, as if I were a doll.
Tears blurred my vision as I met each of their eyes, settling on Abe’s. I am sorry. This is my fault.
“I shall take your fears from your mind…and make them real,” Bathory said, standing to approach my friends.
25
THE CHOICE
“The art of killing lies in anticipation,” Bathory murmured, walking past each of my paralyzed friends. “Humans make the most delightful prey. Their fear…it tastes like the sweetest wine. Who shall I dispatch first? One of the hybrids tainted with human blood? The traitor to her own kind? The weak human man? Wilhelmina’s handsome lover?”
Fear gripped my heart, and tendrils of dread coiled around every part of my body at her words. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe; the air had been sucked out of the room. No, I thought desperately. Dear God, no.
Bathory whirled back towards me, her black eyes shining with excitement.
“I shall start with the weakest.”
In a flash, she grabbed Seward and yanked him towards her, sinking her fangs into his throat. Though he was unable to move, I saw the terror in his eyes as she drained him of his blood. An internal scream reverberated within me as I watched the life drain from my friend’s body.
Anara’s eyes were consumed with grief and torment; blood tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched Seward die. Anguish filled Abe’s expression; Gabriel and Emma looked stricken with horror.
Bathory released Seward from her grasp with a contented sigh, his blood staining the sides of her mouth. Seward’s lifeless body slid to the ground.
Death was a cruel thing; instantaneous, impersonal, and permanent. Snatching life from the here and now, releasing it into oblivion. No matter how many times I watched someone die, the effect was still the same; despair settled over my body, its weight siphoning the air from my lungs, rendering me hollow.
This is not happening. This one of my dreams, I told myself. I did not break the thrall. This cannot be real.
“This is very real, Wilhelmina,” Bathory said, gleaning my thoughts. She crossed the room to kneel before me, reaching out to stroke my face with her frosty hands. I wanted to look away from her deceptively beautiful face, to recoil from her touch, but I was held firm in her thrall. She gazed into my eyes, pleasure filling her own at the agony she saw there. “I could have gone straight for your lover…but I will leave him for last. I want the tainted hybrid next. The beautiful one with silver eyes.”
Panic like I had never known rippled through me, replacing my despair. I had to stop her. I couldn’t bear to watch Gabriel die. While she was looking at me, I had to seize upon an opportunity I didn’t have before. I needed to get inside her mind.
I held her gaze, forcing myself to a place of calm as I searched her soulless black eyes. Every monster has a weakness. Every—
The room faded away before I could finish the thought.
I was a young girl, standing in the dungeon of a castle. My mother stood at my side, my hand in hers. My father stood across the room, in front of a servant girl chained to the wall. The servant girl was nude and sobbing, begging for mercy.
My father turned towards me, his fangs stained with her blood. He approached, kneeling down in front of me.
“You must learn, my Elizabeth,” he said. “Humans are not like us. We are above them. They are prey, we the hunter.”
He stood and moved back over to the servant. She screamed as he yanked her head back by her hair, revealing her throat. He smiled, gesturing me to come forward. I looked up at my mother, who gave me an encouraging smile.
“Listen to your father, child.”
Trembling, I obeyed them, approaching my father and the servant girl.
“No, little Elizabeth,” the servant girl pleaded. “Please!”
I shut my eyes to block out her terrified face. My father reached out to grip my arm and shook me. I opened my eyes.
“You must always look,” he ordered. “Their fear is the best part of killing. Now drink.”
I forced myself to look into her pleading eyes. I moved forward, and sunk my fangs into her neck.
It was years later; I entered the same dungeon. I was a young woman now, approaching a man my age, who was chained to the wall, begging for his life. I halted, a stirring of hesitation filling my gut. I had not felt such hesitation in years. I moved forward and found myself unlocking his chains.
“I knew you were not a monster,” he said, when I freed him. “You have a heart, Elizabeth.”
The young man and I were fervently kissing in a forest clearing. He pulled back, resting his forehead against mine.
“Come away with me,” he whispered. “We can go anywhere.”
“They are my family. I cannot abandon them.”
“They are monsters. You are not one of them. Come with me, my love. Please.”
I was suddenly back in the room with Bathory. I had been released from the thrall.
Bathory now stood, her hands on her head, looking down at me in shock and disbelief.
“How—how did you —“
My friends had been released from the thrall as well; Anara immediately lunged at Bathory with a snarl. But Bathory whirled towards her, and Anara was slammed back against the wall, along with Abe, Emma, and Gabriel. She turned and advanced towards me, lifting me up by my throat. I sputtered and gasped, fighting to breathe.
“How did you get into my mind, human?!” she demanded. “I knew there was something different about you. Who are you? What are you? Are you a witch?”
She was not truly seeking a reply from me; I was unable to speak. She yanked me forward, sinking her fangs into my throat.
I had wanted her to drink from me, but terror coursed through me as she did so. In her enraged state, she could easily kill me before my blood affected her.
My panic did not last long. Bathory abruptly stiffened, dropping me to the ground. I landed with a thud, woozy and reeling. Bathory touched her bloodstained mouth, wildly shaking her head as she swayed on her feet.
“How can you be one of us?” she whispered in disbelief. “How…”
She stumbled to her knees. Though I had no weapo
n, I stumbled forward, desperate to do whatever I could to her in this weakened state. Anara, Abe, and Gabriel darted towards her as well, once again released from Bathory’s thrall.
Bathory vanished.
“No,” I rasped, stumbling to my knees. If Bathory had gone, we would lose her. She could easily get one of her followers to strengthen her with blood.
Abe, Emma, and Gabriel rushed over to me.
“I—I am slightly faint, but I can still fight,” I said, clutching my bleeding neck as they helped me to my feet. She’d not drained me to the point of weakness. “We need to find her. She—“
“She is still in the manor,” Anara whispered. “I can smell her.”
We turned. Anara had sunk to her knees opposite Seward’s still body, blood tears streaking down her face once more. Seward’s lifeless brown eyes stared at the ceiling, and grief seized my heart at the sight. Seward had once been so full of life.
“We will come back for you,” Anara whispered to him. “This is not over. I promise.”
There was no time to mourn for Seward, nor to decipher her cryptic words. Outside of the door, I heard muffled shouts and cries; bodies slamming into walls, grunts of pain. The sounds came from downstairs. Hope stirred beneath my despair. Others were here. Had the Order arrived?
We scurried to the door. Anara and Gabriel used their combined strength to barrel it open.
I turned towards Emma, whose face was pale with shock.
“Once we are out there, you need to find someplace safe to hide.”
Emma did not protest, giving me a hasty nod. Anara and Gabriel forced the door open, and we tore out into the hall.
As soon as we entered, one of Bathory’s henchmen barreled towards us from the far end of the hall. I froze with panic. We didn’t have our weapons.
I needn’t have worried; pure rage fueled Anara. She boldly charged ahead of us, dispatching both of them by snapping their necks.
We continued down the hall, making our way to the stairs. We halted when we heard multiple footsteps race up the steps towards us.
“Stay behind me and Gabriel!” Anara shouted to us.
We braced ourselves to face more of Bathory’s vampires. But it was the other members of the Order—Noelle, Nikolaus, and Kudret, along with two humans I didn’t recognize. Noelle tossed two stakes to me and Abe.
“I am sorry we did not get here sooner—there were attacks by Bathory’s ferals,” Noelle said, as we joined them to race down the stairs.
“You are here now. Please—get my cousin to safety,” I said, nodding towards Emma, who trailed behind us. “Bathory is still in the manor—we must find and kill her.”
Noelle nodded, gesturing to one of the other members to accompany Emma elsewhere as we descended the stairs.
I stilled when we arrived on the first floor. I recognized the room from the memory in Francois’ mind. It was a grand hall, filled with plush rugs and couches. Human heads were indeed mounted on the walls like prized game; I flinched at the grotesque sight. Yet I couldn’t be too focused on the sight of human heads—a battle played out before my eyes.
Two dozen members of the Order, mostly vampire, were fighting Bathory’s vampires in the expansive hall, their movements faster than my eyes could track. I saw no sign of Bathory amidst the fighting.
A group of Bathory’s vampires emerged from the fray, darting towards us. Anara and the others charged at them to fight.
Rage shot through me when I saw that one of them was Matyas, his cold eyes trained on me. He snarled, dashing towards me. Abe moved in front of me, but Matyas tossed him bodily aside and grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the wall, his fangs bared. Both fury and fear gripped me as I started to lift my stake, but Gabriel leapt onto Matyas from behind, pulling him away.
Matyas quickly gained the upper hand, slamming Gabriel to the floor. With another ferocious snarl, he reached down to tear Gabriel’s heart from his chest.
“No!” I cried, lunging towards them. I lodged my stake into Matyas’ back from behind. I missed his heart, but wounded him. Matyas let out an agonized howl. Gabriel used his momentary distraction to roll out from beneath him, pinning him to the floor by his throat.
“For our mother!” he growled. Baring his fangs, Gabriel sunk them into Matyas’ throat, tearing out much of his flesh. Matyas struggled beneath his grip as blood gushed from his open wound.
Gabriel turned to look at me, giving me a subtle nod. I gazed down at Matyas. I thought of what I had seen of him and my mother; her pleas in her last desperate moments. A quick death would be too kind for this monster.
I surveyed his torn throat, the profuse bleeding from the wound in his back. His skin was growing even more pale, his blue eyes growing dim. He was already dying.
I kneeled, leaning in close to his ear, so that he could hear every word above the din of fighting that surrounded us.
“Know this. Isabel Ghyslaine survives through us. Her children have ended you. We will end Bathory. We will end this war.”
Matyas’ eyes flashed with defiance at my words, but there was a trace of defeat as well. Gabriel helped me to my feet. We watched as the life drained from Matyas, keeping our eyes on his until the very end.
“Mina…”
Abe rushed towards me, covered in blood, his throat and left arm bleeding from bite wounds. We quickly embraced, but there was no time to linger.
“In the back—I scent Bathory!” Anara shouted.
Anara had just dispatched the vampire she’d been fighting. She turned towards the entrance of a corridor at the back of the grand hall. Abe, Gabriel, and I trailed her out of the hall, avoiding the vampires from both sides as they fought with grunts and snarls.
We raced down the long corridor, which ended at an open door on our right. We entered. The door led to a rickety staircase that descended into a dark tunnel.
The tunnel was pitch black; we moved forward with caution. As we walked, I could barely make out grimy stone floors, empty cages splattered with blood, and fragments of bone. How many humans has she tortured here? I wondered with a shiver.
“Stay close together,” I whispered, clutching my stake. We continued forward, only the sound of our tense and ragged breaths accompanying us.
“She’s here,” Anara whispered. “Up ahead. She’s…weakened. I can smell her.”
We started to charge forward, but stilled when we heard hisses behind us. Ferals were approaching. Anara straightened.
“I will stop them—go!”
We darted forward, until we spotted a figure up ahead. Bathory. Gabriel growled and started to charge forward, but I stopped him.
“Careful,” I whispered. “This could be a trap. We approach—together. We surround her when we are close.”
Gabriel hesitated, but he nodded. We tentatively moved forward, spreading out to surround her once we were near.
Bathory was on her knees. Even in the darkness, I could see that her skin was now a sickly gray. She was struggling to breathe. I nodded at the others, and we lunged forward.
She looked up with a hiss, slamming Gabriel and Abe back against the wall, paralyzing them, as she lunged towards me. She may have been sluggish, but she managed to slam me to the ground, her grip firm around my throat as she squeezed. I struggled against her grip; I would soon lose consciousness. Fighting my rising panic, I found her eyes in the darkness, and the dungeon around me faded.
The young man I loved was on his knees in front of me in the forest clearing. He was pale, his face bruised, his throat bleeding. My father stood next to me, fury radiating from his entire body.
“Do it!” he shouted.
I made myself move forward. The man looked up at me, his eyes burning with hatred.
“I was wrong,” he spat. “You are a monster. You are not capable of love.”
Pain seared me at his words. Tears blurred my vision, but I smiled.
“Indeed,” I murmured. I reached out and snapped his neck, ignoring the grief that fille
d my heart.
“You have chosen well, daughter,” my father said.
I was once again in the dungeon. Bathory blinked in disorientation at the memory, loosening her grip on my throat.
I moved quickly. I reached for the wooden stake at my side, and sank it into her heart.
“You made the wrong choice,” I whispered. It was momentary, and perhaps I imagined it, but a tiny flicker of regret flared in her eyes, before they forever drifted shut.
26
HUMANITY
We were back in the room where Bathory killed Seward, standing in somber silence opposite Anara. She sat with his body cradled in her lap, her long curtain of dark hair partially concealing his face as she gazed down at him. The silence in the room was heavy with grief.
Elizabeth Bathory was dead, but there was no sense of victory within me; only a hollow emptiness.
Is this what victory feels like? I wondered. A chasm of emptiness?
At my side, Abe’s eyes were shut, as if the sight of his friend’s body was too much to bear. Next to him, Gabriel watched Seward and Anara, deep sorrow shadowing his expression. Emma hovered behind us, her head bowed and shoulders trembling.
After I staked Bathory, Anara reached us, ripping her limp body off of me. With a snarl, Anara tore Bathory’s head from her body with her bare hands.
Several other members of the Order, including Noelle, had raced into the tunnel soon after, and taken Bathory’s body away to burn it in the forest.
Noelle informed us that many of Bathory’s ferals had died with her, and the Order managed to kill her remaining vampires. The Order had scattered to check the surrounding forest to ensure there were no other vampires approaching the house, while another group searched every corner of the manor. There hadn’t been any indication of her surviving vampires; the manor was now secure, though members of the Order were posted around the house and the forest for added security.
Realm of Night (Mina Murray Book 3) Page 17