Once Upon A Midnight

by Stephanie Rowe

  Are you there? Meghan?

  There was no answer. He tried again with the same result. Nothing. That was odd. Even if she’d been sleeping, he should have been able to get through to her. He dressed quickly, and bypassing saddling Dracula for transportation, took to the sky instead. He flew straight for the Veleru compound.

  If the old woman was right, and there was a possibility to reverse the curse, therefore ending his vampirism, this would probably be the only thing he’d really miss. There was nothing like it. Being free from the rules of gravity, having the ability to take to the sky and move like the wind was its own special kind of magic. He knew he would love to share this with Meghan, but if all went according to plan, there wouldn’t be time. Mark was okay with that since there were a million other things he could share with her should he become human again, like breathing, and growing old. He laughed. The idea of his heart beating once again felt like an even greater miracle than flying. The things I took for granted! The sun on my face, feeling temperatures, even catching a cold. He smiled. Having children… The possibilities were endless, and he knew he would trade away this supernatural existence for fifty, thirty, even twenty years of humanity with the woman he loved. This was his second chance, and he was not going to let anything or anyone stop him from grabbing it with both hands, and claiming it for his own.

  He sighted the cluster of houses and descended. Landing atop the roof of the main house, he climbed down with the joy of a small boy on Christmas morning. Mark stood before the front door suddenly feeling apprehensive. He straightened his clothes, ran his fingers through his windswept hair putting it in order, and slapped his own face several times with his hands. If the fates were kind, Meghan was inside, and Adina Veleru either had Petrescu or the ring, or a way to get both figured out. The most important of those was Meghan’s safety. He forced air into his lungs and reached out knocking on the massive wooden door with three solid raps.

  The door swung wide. Cosmin stood with a shotgun raised and aimed at his chest.

  “Woah!” Mark stepped back, hands raised.

  Cosmin lowered the barrel. “Oh, it’s you.” He looked outside checking left and right. “I thought it might be the other bastard.”

  Mark eyed the man. “You didn’t get him?”

  “He wasn’t there when we arrived.”

  If his heart could plummet in his chest, Mark would be experiencing terrible anxiety at that moment. “And Meghan? Please tell me you found her?”

  “Yes. We found her.” Cosmin’s voice did not sound happy.

  “But…?” Mark asked, afraid of the answer.

  The older man sighed, then pointed a finger at Mark. “There is much to tell you, but I am not inviting you inside unless I have your word as a gentleman, one who has the chance to be human again,” he reminded him, “that you will harm no one in this house, not ever! If you do, I swear to the Virgin, I will cut out your dead heart myself!”

  Mark recognized both how serious this man was, and how much faith he was placing in him by even considering the offer to invite him inside. It was a dangerous and risky move which meant only one thing, Meghan was in serious danger and they were desperate.

  “You have my word.” He extended his hand in the age-old gesture of trust among honorable men.

  Cosmin eyed the hand like it was a snake about to bite him, but then he lifted his own hand, spit in it, and gripped Marks, shaking it once with strength before saying the words. “I invite you inside, vampire.”

  Mark took the hint. Although they’d just made a deal as men, the gypsy reminded him he was aware that first and foremost, he was Strigoi, and Cosmin wouldn’t be forgetting that fact anytime soon.

  The gypsy backed up, and Mark walked inside wiping his palm on his pant leg. He followed to the living room where everyone seemed to be waiting. He looked around the room at every face. Hers was missing.

  “You said you found her?” He cast a sideways glance at Cosmin.

  “We did.”

  “So where is she?” Anger edged Mark’s words.

  Dana Veleru stood up. The power rolling off of her now commanded his attention. It seemed to have grown since that morning, and might continue to do so. The little gypsy, he noted, was going to be one formidable witch. “You will calm yourself, vampire.”

  Her words washed over him and his anger faded. Dammit! I need my edge. “Then explain to me, please,” he added politely, “how it is she is not here?”

  “Sit,” she said.

  Mark’s feet moved forward carrying him to the chair opposite the old woman. He didn’t like that his body responded to her command without his own permission. She must surely have the abilities of a necromancer. This was not something he cared for at all. He sat.

  “We found Meghan this morning, and we even got her out of Petrescu’s home.” She paced back and forth. “We were on our way back here when we were ambushed in the mountain pass.”

  “By whom?” Who the hell could have possibly ambushed a van load of gypsies?

  “Magdalena.” She stopped pacing and stared at him.

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  “Do I appear as though this is some kind of joke?”

  Mark took in the seriousness of her expression, the sincerity in her dark eyes. She wasn’t joking. She truly meant that the old witch, from eight-hundred years back, had somehow ambushed them…and taken Meghan? “But why would she take Meghan for that is surely what you’re trying to say?”

  Dana sighed. She glanced at her grandmother. The old woman cleared her throat.

  “It seems I was correct in my speculation. The original pact was never completed. Petrescu was supposed to kill her, but with his desire to curse you and bring you harm, and your blood-thirsty transformation, it all went wrong. Or perhaps Petrescu never meant to honor his end of the deal. I am not quite sure, but it was, indeed, Magdalena, my ancestor. She is determined to complete the transaction. She wants to die, and the only way it can happen is if the person whose soul she absorbed ends her life. She took Meghan to lure Petrescu to her. She will hold her ransom, offering her only in exchange for her own death.”

  “And all of you together could not stop one decrepit old woman?” Incredulity oozed out of Mark’s mouth. “What about you?” he looked at Dana. “You are becoming more powerful by the hour if I am any judge. Are you saying you couldn’t take her?”

  “Yes, that is what I am saying.”

  “You weren’t there, Strigoi. You did not witness what we saw with our own eyes.” Cosmin spoke up. “She stopped the van in its tracks with one flick of her wrist.”

  “And she could hear our conversation inside the vehicle although she was standing out front in the road.” Stefan threw in his two cents.

  “You said it yourself, Anghelescu.” Adina turned his attention to her. Mark noticed she did not call him vampire or Strigoi. “She is over eight-hundred years old. She has had nothing but time to increase her own power. What she gave to Petrescu when she handed over that ring was nothing to what she already inherited through her own blood. She is more powerful than Dana, and far more powerful than myself. She would have crushed us all because she is desperate to end her existence. You, of all people, should understand the monotony and loneliness of immortality.”

  He did understand, but that didn’t change the fact that he was furious, and felt helpless. “So what are we to do?”

  “She wants Petrescu. You want Meghan. If he is still at his home, then the only chance you have is to secure him. Make a trade.”

  “Then what is everyone waiting for?” Mark stood up.

  “We were waiting for you.”

  “And what about what you said this morning, about reversing the curse. Is that still possible? You said this woman is too powerful to defeat.”

  Adina nodded. “Tis true. The stakes are high. It is up to you what you feel you can risk. If the ring is destroyed, Petrescu’s soul will be ripped from her and returned to him. At that moment, he will be c
ompletely mortal, and therefore, you can kill him. But stripping the soul she needs to die from her body will not diminish Magdalena’s powers. It might temporarily weaken her, but she can still kill you for it.”

  Mark paced. “And if I let her have her way, allow Petrescu to kill her?”

  “Then he will still be immortal and you will not be able to kill him. He will forever be a threat to you and to Meghan. Also, you will not ever again have the chance to become human.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Those are not good odds either way.”

  “No, they are not,” she said.

  Mark thought over everything she’d said, everything he remembered Meghan telling him. He turned to Adina swiftly. “Wait, you said the ring keeps him immortal, that he must wear it at all times. What would happen if I can get the ring off his finger?”

  The old woman raised a dark gray eyebrow. “He would age and die…without a soul.”

  “And be condemned to hell?” Mark’s lips spread in a gleeful smile.

  “Yes.”

  “Could I then destroy the ring?”

  “No. The pact would be complete, and your vampirism, permanent.”

  “Dammit! My choices to save us both are few.” He sat back down and chewed his thumbnail. It was a very human thing to do. Sorrow entered his eyes. “There really is only one way forward, the only way to save Meghan. I must get the ring from Petrescu and destroy it.”

  Ilana, who’d sat quietly throughout the conversation, gasped. “But the old witch will kill you!”

  Mark looked at her. He remembered her from the tavern. She was lively, and kind, and always smiling at her patrons. He’d witnessed the love between her and Stefan, had seen how happy they were as a family, having their son working in the family business. At the time, it hadn’t moved him, but it did now. It was what he wanted more than anything else in the world for himself and Meghan. But it was not meant to be. The only way to save her was to sacrifice himself.

  “Yes, she will, but not before I kill Petrescu. I need someone with me, someone to be ready to get Meghan out of wherever the old woman is holding her. Once she’s killed me, she will have had her revenge. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “How can you make sure she doesn’t come after Meghan, after us?” Sorin eyed Mark with skepticism.

  “Because gypsies love deals, and I’m going to make her an offer she cannot refuse.” Mark quoted from his favorite movie, The Godfather.

  “What deal? What can you offer an eight-hundred year old witch that will matter to her? All she wants is to die.” Sorin stood, hands on his hips.

  “Sorin, you let me worry about that.” To Dana, he said, “Do you think maybe you can slow her down a little, give me enough time to end Petrescu?”

  Dana knew she would be in the direct line of fire if she did, but her friend’s life was on the line. “Yes.”

  “Dana, no!” Adina stood up abruptly.

  “It’s okay, grandmamma--”

  “Silence!” Adina shouted. “You will not risk yourself. You are the next shaman for this clan. You are needed here.” She lifted her hand and spoke three ancient words in rapid succession. Dana froze and began falling sideways drifting off to sleep. Sorin dove and caught his sister.

  “Take her up to her room and lock her inside, Sorin. I am ordering you to stand guard over her and this family.” She turned to Cosmin. “You will come,” then looked at Stefan, “and you will help get Meghan away.” She returned her attention to Mark whose mouth was hanging open slightly in surprise. “I will slow her down. No arguments, Strigoi!” She pointed a bony finger in his face.

  Mark threw his hands up in surrender. “No argument from me, madam.” Part of him wanted to smile. She couldn’t have reminded him more of his nanny, Angelina, in that moment if she tried. Forceful, stubborn to a fault, and fiercely protective of those she loved. He understood, too, what she was thinking. She was old, and if things went south, her life was already near the end. She would not let her children or grandchildren suffer in her place. She would face the enemy, and he could see she was a force of nature, an opponent even old Magdalena herself would respect.

  Cosmin’s eyes were wide, and his expression, thunderstruck. “I did not know you could do that, grandmamma.”

  “You have seen nothing yet, grandson,” she promised.

  Mark stood up. “Well, let’s go get Petrescu then.”

  Cosmin was still in shock. Stefan kissed Ilana, and then walked to his cousin, giving him a small slap across the face. “Snap out of it. I’ll drive.”

  Adina shocked Mark by putting her arm through his. It had been a long time since anyone had trusted him near, and even longer since he’d played the gentleman. “You’ll need a coat, dear lady. I believe it is cold outside.” He picked up the thick, gray, shawl-style coat off the peg in the hall as they passed. He stopped and placed it around her shoulders. If he wasn’t mistaken, she smiled just a little. The entire family watched his kind act and no one could believe it. The Velerus would be telling this story for generations to come – the night a Strigoi came into their home and was tamed to gentleness by their tiny, yet all-powerful grandmother, Adina Lazar Veleru.

  ###

  “So how long do you plan to keep me?” Meghan sat on a wooden chair next to a rickety, hand-built table made from old crates in a room carved out of the side of a mountain. By her best guess, they weren’t that far from the Veleru compound. Apparently, Magdalena had not strayed too far from the home she always knew.

  “Until the pact is complete, child.” She sat near the fire upon a three-legged stool. It didn’t look comfortable at all, but it was surely warmer.

  “And then what?” Meghan had watched the old woman from the moment they arrived just outside of the cave opening. It appeared as if the energy Magdalena had expended to stop the van and transport them to her home had drained her. She was listless and a little grumpy.

  “Then, he can have you.” She didn’t seem to care.

  “It doesn’t bother you at all that I don’t want him, that he will kill me?” Meghan had a difficult time believing anyone could be so callous.

  Magdalena turned her head slowly, her eyes, buried in wrinkles, found hers. There was nothing there. “No. Your life is fleeting. If he kills you, you will go through purgatory, and then onto the next life, the next lesson. I envy you. It will always be fresh and new. As for me, I don’t even know what I could possibly gain from reincarnating. I’ve already lived hundreds of lifetimes in one body. All I want is peace. All I dream of is oblivion.” She turned back to the fire and hunched further into her shawl.

  “Maybe you can learn compassion for your fellow man.” Meghan stated blithely.

  The old woman chuckled. “You have spunk. And maybe you will figure out how to get away from Petrescu on your own.”

  “Sure. Perhaps Mark will kill him. He’s the only one up to the task as far as I can tell with the powers you’ve given to Petre making him strong and immortal.”

  A spark of curiosity lit her dull eyes. “And who is this Mark?”

  Eyebrow raised in surprise, Meghan asked, “You don’t know? The vampire you helped create that night you made the pact with Petrescu. He asked for your help to kill a man. Don’t you remember?”

  The woman’s head cocked to the right, and then she opened her mouth and began to laugh revealing the few teeth she had left. It was raw and hoarse, and creepy.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Magdalena tried to get herself under control. It took a moment as a few more belly laughs shook her frail body. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. “I remember he wanted revenge against your lover. I remember that once I absorbed his soul and felt its rot, I was angry. Do you know what a petty, small, and spiritually crippled man he is? No? I can tell you that I was desperate for a soul, any soul, but my desperation brought me the worst possible candidate. His is a black soul, but there was just enough good in it to give me what I needed, if on
ly I could die.”

  “Petrescu had some good in him?” Meghan sounded skeptical.

  “Yes,” she said, her face growing serious. “He had honest feelings for you. Oh, not all of them, but their origins began when he was but a boy, and those were the ones based in purity. It was a small boon for me, but a boon nonetheless. That was to be my ticket to the purgatorial realm. I would gladly suffer every moment of pain he caused in life for that one chance of redemption in the end. That is what purgatory is, Miss Hartley. You go there and visit all those you harmed in life. You feel their pain, and you learn your lessons. When the review is complete, you move on and choose your next life, your next set of lessons. The goal is to always evolve and grow as a soul to obtain both enlightenment, and god-like purity. It is only when we have learned all lessons that we can ascend to the highest realm, that of the all-soul itself – the place where souls are born, and the place they return for eternal peace.”

  Meghan stared at her. That was way more information than any human should have. It was far more than the human mind could comprehend. She focused on something less complicated. “But what about Mark?”

  “Ah, yes. I knew Petrescu’s soul in that moment. I knew he might renege somehow. He lacks integrity. When he begged for my help to gain his revenge on your lover, I cursed a dagger and told him he would need to plunge it into the man. It would guarantee death.”

  “But he isn’t dead.” Meghan was confused.

  “Isn’t he? He is the living dead. I know. I saw him. He came to the camp the next night, wild with anger and bloodlust. He came searching for you.” She pointed at Meghan. “I did not know his name then. Mark, you say?”

  “But why would you do such a thing? It has been hell for him, and he was a good person!” Indignation whipped up like a storm inside of her.

  “Child, what is done cannot be undone, at least, not until we all come together again. The dagger that I told Petrescu was cursed with death was…cursed with his own death.” She laughed at her own inside joke. Meghan didn’t get it as was clear by the expression on her face. The old woman continued. “You say your lover will come for Petrescu, and I say death comes for him. You see, I had to ensure my own revenge should the pig not follow through on his own promise. If Petrescu would not give me what I wanted, I made sure to deny him what he wanted more than his own soul. Your Strigoi is the weapon of Petrescu’s death. He holds the power within himself to accomplish the task, my power in the form of his strength. It transferred through the wound. Blood sealed the spell. And once he puts that rabid dog down, he will be free of the curse.” She looked down and muttered, “Funny, I thought he must have met his own end long ago. I truly despaired I had lost my chance at revenge. I figured the Strigoi would have found Petrescu before now, and when I kept sensing the liar’s existence, thought someone else had staked the vampire or maybe he did not love you as much as he implied.” She shrugged her shoulders, muttering.