Her page came up flashing a picture of her with the little gypsy woman standing outside of a van. The caption read “My first gypsy care-a-van! On my way to celebrate my friend’s grandmother’s birthday.” Dana Veleru was tagged in the image and now Mark knew the meddling gypsy’s name.
He opened a new tab and looked up Veleru. There were many, however, it wasn’t so much the names he was interested in, but their locations. He found that the largest concentration of Velerus were located south from his own home, about two miles, and sitting upon land that once belonged to his family. He knew the area well. Very well. A slow smile spread across his face.
“So, Meghan, the time has come.” He shut down the computer and picked up his cell phone. Although he eschewed most technology, he found he rather liked the convenience of GPS mapping, checking his business email, and one he would never admit, playing Candy Crush. He was up into the twelve thousandth level. He was willing to bet most people didn’t even know it went that high. He had a lot of time on his hands, and until recently, not much to do with it outside of business deals.
Mark walked out of the house setting the alarm as he went. He headed straight for the stables. Tonight, he would use a more conventional mode of travel. As he approached, Dracula whinnied, then stomped the ground. Mark still found it humorous that he’d named the black stallion after the very man who inspired the myth of vampires. At least, the world believed it to be a myth. He knew otherwise, and so did every gypsy born into the life of a traveler. The stories were passed down verbally generation to generation. The young ones these days usually thought they were just that; stories. But those who encountered the Strigoi, crossed their paths on a dark night, soon knew the truth to every single tale told around a campfire. Dana Veleru knew the truth now. And he figured her taking Meghan out of the city was her way of keeping his woman from him. Little did she realize how futile the effort, that nothing would keep him from claiming Meghan. She was his, had always been his, and fate brought her to him. He would not let her get away a second time. Dracula snorted, impatient to run. Mark tightened the straps of the leather saddle and mounted the massive steed.
“Are you ready, my friend?” He gripped the reigns letting the majestic animal know who was in control.
Dracula threw back his head, snorted loudly expelling puffs of air visible on the cool breeze, and danced in place eager to get moving.
Mark laughed. “Good. Then let’s go get our woman!” He dug his heels into the stallion’s sides and Dracula took off in a full run heading for the open field. Rider and beast were soon swallowed up into the night.
Chapter Eight
MEGHAN WAS OVERWHELMED. There were so many people; aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, parents, and one very energetic grandmother. Dana pulled Meghan’s hand as she led her to the center of all the people standing outside of the main house. Near the fire pit, an old woman stood wearing a dark gray sweater paired with a long, ruby-red skirt over black boots. Her slate-colored hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, and her face was both open and full of character. She smiled as Dana approached revealing a missing tooth on the upper right side. Although small in stature, she exuded a powerful presence.
“Grandmamma, this is my friend, Meghan Hartley.” Dana stepped next to the old woman and put her arm around her. “And Meghan, this is my grandmamma, Adina Lazar Veleru.”
Meghan extended her hand. The old woman clasped it between her own. Her hands felt warm and strong despite her frail build. Her wrinkled skin looked paper-thin, and the joints of her fingers were twisted with arthritis, but the comfort in her touch was undeniable.
“Happy birthday, Mrs. Veleru.” Meghan smiled down at the woman, then her smile slipped a notch as she noticed the intense expression transforming the old woman’s face.
Adina gripped Meghan’s hand tighter, and then she flipped it over extending out the younger girl’s fingers. She stared at her palm and one gnarled digit traced the lines she found there.
“Sweet Virgin, we are too late!” She glanced up at Meghan and then cast a wide-eyed glance at her granddaughter. “The necklace, you gave it to her?” Adina Veleru looked back at Meghan, her eyes searching around her neck. There, hanging just beneath her sweater was the necklace she’d helped Dana fashion, the one infused with her magic. “You have it on now, but you’ve removed it, yes?” She looked up at Meghan, accusation in her tone.
Meghan’s free hand flew to her neck and she gripped the chain hanging there. “Well, sometimes. Like when I take a bath and go to sleep, why? What’s this about? Are you doing some kind of palm reading thing?” She half-smiled, but the uncertainty in her voice showed she wasn’t sure how to respond.
Dana looked at her friend. She blinked and cast her eyes down turning back to her grandmother. “I tried, grandmamma, but I didn’t quite know how to explain it without Meghan thinking we were crazy.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve failed her, haven’t I? I failed my friend. I failed you. I’m so sorry, grandmamma. Meghan.” She reached out laying her hand over the one her grandmother still clasped.
“I don’t understand—” Meghan began.
“Of course you don’t! You are not Curarya, not gypsy! But I will explain it to you, and you had better heed my words, Meghan Hartley, for they may be the only things that might save you now.” She tugged Meghan’s hand and pulled her over to the chairs around the fire. “Sit.”
Meghan chose a red lawn chair and Dana pulled one up next to her. She sat, and then reached over to take her friend’s hand. She held it tight offering a look of apology in her now sad brown eyes.
The old woman sat down opposite the two girls in an old rust-colored recliner that had been placed outside for her comfort. She sat with her spine straight and shoulders back, regal as a queen. Her eyes held Meghan’s, staring beyond the physical into her soul.
“When my granddaughter came to me last week, I was alarmed. I have never seen her so distraught. I’d hoped never to see her that upset, hoped she would not ever find herself in the presence of a dark one.”
The darkness in her tone left Meghan unsettled. “If I’ve somehow offended you…,” she looked at Dana, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. Please accept my apology.”
“You did nothing, Meghan. The dark one is not you. Let grandmamma explain.” She patted her friend’s hand.
“You are marked. I see it in your aura, and I read it in the lines of your palm. He has already marked you. You let him in, Meghan. You removed the only protection I could offer when you took off your necklace, and you allowed him a way in. You have been having dreams, yes?”
Meghan stiffened. She looked at the old woman, surprised.
“No need to answer. I see it in your eyes. He has been coming to you night after night, visiting his lust upon you, and you have received him.”
The accusation was thick. Meghan felt like she was being dressed down by her father for wrongdoing. “I don’t understand. I mean, yes, I’ve been having some really wild dreams, but they’re just dreams--”
“Not just dreams! The dark one is a master manipulator. He will make you his in your mind first, and then he will come for your body. He wants you, and he will not stop until he has you.” She sat forward eyeing the girl in front of her. “What has he said to you in these dreams?”
Meghan flushed, her cheeks burning. She wanted to lie, but found she couldn’t do so to save her life. Dana gave her hand a supportive squeeze. “He tells me he loves me. That I’m his.”
Adina Veleru sucked in air and sat back. “What else?” she demanded.
Meghan looked at Dana. “He leaves me with a warning each time.”
Dana blinked back the tears in her eyes. “What does he warn you about?”
“Professor Petrescu.” Meghan clearly felt that this was all surreal, that it couldn’t possibly be happening.
“Who is this?” Adina asked her granddaughter.
Dana turned to her with a confused expression. “He�
�s a professor of sociology at the university. He pestered Meghan for a bit, but lately, he seems to have gotten the message she isn’t interested. He’s creepy, grandmamma. I don’t like him.” She spit on the ground.
“Always trust your instincts, Dana.” She addressed Meghan again. “What is your assessment of this Petrescu?”
“I don’t like him. Something feels off about him, and he makes my skin crawl. I just avoid him, but he is in my English class so I still have to see him there.” Meghan shuddered.
“He approached you first?” The old woman pried.
“Yes, he came up and introduced himself to me when I first arrived.”
Adina sat thinking.
Meghan glanced at her friend. “Dana, is Petrescu supposed to be the dark one? If he is, why would my dreams warn me about him? What does this all mean?”
Dana shook her head in the negative. “No. He is big creep for sure, but he is not the dark one. The dark one you met at Stefan’s and Ilana’s pub.”
Meghan looked thoughtful trying to remember who else she met while at the tavern. The only other person she could recall outside of Dana’s family was the handsome man who bought their dinner, the one she left standing there as her friend practically pulled her out the door.
“Yes, him.” Dana could see the understanding cross Meghan’s face.
“But we didn’t even talk to him except to refuse his offer to stay. I don’t get it. What was so dark about him? He was very handsome.” Something clicked in Meghan’s memory. The shadows that always covered her dream lover’s face were suddenly lifted, and she could see him clearly. She gasped.
“Now you see,” said the old woman. “Dana knew what he was that night. He spoke to her, recognized her.”
“I didn’t see him speak to you…” Meghan began.
“You didn’t hear him because he spoke only in my head. He called me gypsy. I heard him as clear as a bell.” Dana shook her head, fear in her words.
“You’re talking about telepathy. But that’s just cra--” Meghan stopped herself from confirming her friend’s fear that she would think her crazy.
“Is it?” The old woman asked. “Why is it crazy to think he could communicate with his mind when he has been seducing you in your dreams?”
Meghan flashed to each vivid dream she’d had in the past week. They had all maintained a quality unlike any dream she’d ever had before. She could feel everything, smell everything, taste…everything. She’d even climaxed in every dream, sometimes multiple times. But to entertain the idea that a man she’d seen only once in passing could be insinuating himself into her dreams would surely mean she was losing her marbles. It wasn’t even possible…was it?
“What, exactly, is a dark one? You keep saying that, but what does that mean? Some kind of evil mind-reader?” Meghan waited, almost holding her breath, fearful Dana’s grandmother would tell her some psycho stalker had fixated on her.
Adina stood and walked to her. She squatted down slowly, her age making it difficult, and sat on her knees placing her hands on Meghan’s which were sitting on her blue-jeaned thighs. “He is not of this world, child. He is far older than even myself. This man, if we can call him that, is not some smitten, unwelcomed suitor.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “He is Strigoi. He is vampire.”
Dana crossed herself. Meghan stopped breathing. The old woman searched her face. Suddenly, Meghan began to laugh. It started as a nervous giggle, then flowed out uncontrollably despite trying to hold it in. She knew it was disrespectful so she bit her lip to stop.
“You laugh? You think this is a game?” Adina stood to her full height and looked down upon Meghan with disapproval.
Meghan grew serious once again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just that, well, you just told me I have a vampire dream stalker, and where I come from, that’s just absurd. That sort of thing only happens in movies.”
“Bah!” Adina looked at Dana. “I told you she would not believe. I warned you, and now you’ve placed yourself between the Strigoi and what it wants. It will surely kill you, and it will not be because I did not warn you!”
The volume of Adina’s voice rose. Stefan, Cosmin, and Sorin all turned from their conversations and came closer. Ilana followed. Sorin put down the guitar he’d been playing and came up behind his grandmother placing his hands on her shoulders.
“Grandmamma, why are you getting so upset? What is it?”
The old woman pointed at Meghan. “She has attracted a Strigoi and put your sister in danger. She will not listen to me. It will kill her and anyone who gets in its way!”
Sorin looked at her. He was a year younger than Meghan, but tall, fit, and as handsome as Dana had suggested on their ride up with his black, wavy hair and startling blue eyes. He’d been all smiles when they arrived, but now his expression was dead serious. “Is this true? Have you put my sister in danger?”
Meghan blinked, shocked that he believed in monsters and was angry. “I…I don’t know.” She turned her hands up. “I don’t believe in these things, but if I’ve somehow put Dana in danger, I’m sorry. I can leave.” She stood up.
“Leaving will not help. It will only place you in further danger. And it doesn’t matter if you don’t believe in Strigoi.” He held his grandmother close to his side. The old woman looked disgusted. “The Strigoi believes in you, and if it has decided it wants you, there’s not a lot that will prevent it from taking you. And Miss Hartley, just so you understand, you won’t survive.” Sorin spoke better English than Dana having spent a year attending college in London.
Meghan looked at all of them one by one. As she searched their faces for any hint of a group joke, that hope died as each pair of eyes reflected back the seriousness of their beliefs. Even Dana’s parents, Marius and Renee, came up to stand in the semi-circle surrounding her. There were varying degrees of anger and disapproval, all of which made Meghan itch to run away.
“You really believe this,” she said, more a statement than a question. She turned to Dana who still stood by her side holding her hand. “You really believe in vampires? So this necklace,” she reached to pull it out from beneath her sweater, “wasn’t an antique friendship locket, but some kind of vampire repellent?”
Dana took a deep breath. “Yes. I could not think of anything that would show you my friendship more than trying to save your life.” She looked straight into Meghan’s eyes. “That night at Stefan and Ilana’s tavern, he spoke inside my head. He was mocking me, Meghan. He knew exactly what I was, and he was not afraid to show me this. He knew I would believe, and that I would protect myself. What he didn’t know was that I would protect you. He wanted you. Wants you. That is why you have been having those dreams. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know. I’m not like you. I wasn’t raised on stories of vampires. They’re just fictional characters in books and movies for me.”
“All fiction comes from kernel of truth, Meghan.”
Meghan felt tears sting the backs of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dana. I wouldn’t for the world put you in danger. I can call a taxi and leave. I see that I’ve offended your family and I’m deeply sorry.” She began pulling her hands away.
“No!” Dana held on tighter. “We do not abandon friends.” She looked at her family. “Just because she did not know, does not believe, does not mean we will hand her to the Strigoi by leaving her unprotected. That is not our way.” She looked at her grandmother, beseeching.
Some of the starch came out of Adina’s spine. “No, you are right. It is not our way. We are loyal to those we care about.” The old woman looked at Meghan. “Young lady, you may not believe in our monsters, but we do, and we will keep our promise to Dana to protect you. That is what Curarya do. You will stay,” she left Sorin’s side and walked to Meghan, “and you will not remove that necklace no matter what, do you understand?” She pointed her bony finger at her.
Meghan nodded pulling her head back a bit. She looked around at the gr
owing circle of faces. Stefan’s mother and father joined them along with Cosmin’s wife, her cousin, and their siblings. The anger had retreated from their expressions and in its place was a resolve. No one was going to let anything happen to her.
“There is but one thing left to do.” The old woman turned and nodded at Stefan who left the group to go inside the house. She turned back. “If we are going to protect you like family, you will become family…tonight!”
“What does that mean?” Meghan asked as Dana grinned and pulled her friend over toward the fire pit.
“It is a ritual, Meghan. Tonight, you become Curarya, and from this night forward, you will always be one of us.”
###
Mark pulled the reigns tight bringing Dracula to a halt. The stallion snorted, breathing hard. He was just inside the tree line of the clearing that opened out exposing three houses in the distance. Beneath the light of the moon, he could see the firelight, and although his hearing was as acute as that of a wolf, he was just beyond the reach of his gift. He could hear only the echoes of voices too many and too distant to make out their words.
He jumped down and looked to the right. The rushing sound of water indicated the river that ran behind the property. He led the horse five minutes southeast and arrived at a spot he had not visited since that last fateful night, the last time he saw Mihaela. He turned the animal loose to quench its thirst and walked around the circular area. It looked both the same and different. Eight hundred years had passed changing the landscape here and there, the river eroding away parts, and plant growth overshadowing other spots, but in all, it looked the same. He would bring her here, he thought, before taking her to his home. Mark smiled and settled down upon the thick grass. He waited. When the moonrise begins its descent, when all the others are asleep, he would go to his woman and claim her once and for all, and woe be to anyone who gets in his way.
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