“The Szekelys?”
Lady Ioana’s eyebrows could not possibly go any higher, and her smile could not get any wider, either, Dacia thought. The ice was creeping its way up her throat from her stomach.
“A charming family that we met just before we left Bucharest,” Lou supplied.
“I know the family,” Lady Ioana said. “I know all the important families in Bucharest. In all of Romania!” She banged her cane on the floor, and Dacia jumped. “And do you know why?” She didn’t wait for them to answer. “Because they are of so little concern to us! We are so different from them, so far above them, that they are as insects crawling on the ground beneath our feet!”
“After last night, we thought you would understand,” Uncle Horia said. There was a line between his brows and he looked baffled by Lou’s request. “We are not like them. We have our own concerns, which other people cannot understand.”
“Like treason?” Dacia’s voice broke shrilly through the ice that was consuming her from within.
“It is not treason to restore the rightful ruler to the throne,” Uncle Horia said, not very convincingly, to Dacia’s ears.
“Taking over Europe is not restoring a rightful ruler to the throne,” Lou pointed out. “Besides which, Dacia and I are Americans. We really should not be part of this.”
Lady Ioana made a rude noise. “Americans! You are your mothers’ daughters, and Romanian! We should have brought you here years ago!”
“I’m afraid I feel far more American than Romanian,” Lou said, rather primly.
Even as she resolved not to say another word, Dacia found herself speaking. “I just don’t understand. If Mihai’s family has the greater claim, why does no one but our family talk about it?”
“Young ladies do not need to concern themselves with politics,” Aunt Maria said. “You are here to add your support to the family, and to do as you are told!”
Dacia pulled at the drawstring collar of her gown. Her aunt’s words angered her, and in the rush of heat from her anger, she felt her soft gown chafing. A bitter taste filled her mouth, and she fought the transformation, smothering a wail of despair. Would it always be like this? Would fear or anger or surprise always make her change? She was distracted, fortunately, by Lou’s answer.
“I don’t think so, Mother,” Lou said with shocking coldness. “I don’t think that it is a good idea at all for us to sit quietly and wait for you to tell us what to do. Not if it’s treason. I don’t like Prince Mihai, and if we are to take part in Romanian politics, it seems to me that King Carol has much more to recommend him.”
Aunt Maria drew in a shocked breath. “Maria Louisa! How dare you! Our family has guarded the Dracula family for four hundred years! If Prince Mihai told you to bring him the moon—”
“I’d laugh in his face,” Lou retorted. “As you yourself have told me all my life: I am from two very great families, and I take orders from no one.”
“You will take orders from me, little girl,” Lady Ioana said. She was not smiling now, and it seemed much worse.
“Why should I?” Lou asked. “I am the Smoke.”
Lady Ioana’s wrinkled face flushed dark and her teeth seemed to sharpen. “You will listen to me now, you spoiled thing—”
But Lou was clearly not in the mood to let her finish. “I am the Smoke,” she snapped. “Like your mother, Lady Ioana.”
Dacia could not understand why Aunt Maria and Uncle Horia both flinched at Lou’s words, or why Lady Ioana seemed unable to reply, but at least Lou’s argument seemed to be working, which was better than Dacia could say for her own feeble attempts to fight.
“And Dacia is the queen of the Claw,” Lou said. “In case you’ve forgotten.” Her hard, very un-Lou-like gaze found Uncle Horia’s, and he looked away. “We won’t be taking orders from anyone. You can try to lock us in our rooms, but I doubt very much any lock could hold me.” She gave Dacia’s arm a tug. “We’d better order the maids to pack,” she said. “Please order the carriage for us, Uncle.”
Stricken mute, Dacia allowed Lou to lead her out of the parlor and up the stairs to Lou’s bedroom. Dacia slowly collapsed on a chair in the corner, staring at the new Lou. Lou, for her part, threw herself on the bed, kicking her legs in what looked like a tantrum. Dacia started to rise again, alarmed, but then she realized that Lou was laughing.
“Why didn’t you tell me that talking back felt so good?” Lou demanded.
FROM THE DESK OF MISS MARIA LOUISA NEULANDER
14 June 1897
Dearest Papa,
Dacia and I are on our way to Bucharest, so you must forgive my handwriting; this carriage is not very well sprung. Lady Ioana did not try to stop us from leaving, but is showing her disapproval in other, smaller ways, like lending us the oldest carriage in the stables. It is very childish of her. Nevertheless, we will be there tomorrow, and spend a day saying good-bye to some new acquaintances. We shall take the Friday train to Buda-Pesth, and hope to see you and the twins at the station on Sunday afternoon.
We now both know what it is that made you so anxious for our safety. It was a shock, but I can assure you that I am quite recovered. Dacia, on the other hand, has taken it very badly, hence our hasty departure. I am hoping that time and distance from Lady Ioana will restore her.
I hope that the twins are behaving themselves. Tell them that if they are, I shall bring them both a present. Radu brought me some sugared plums that are simply divine, and I want to find more. I will buy a box for each of the boys IF they can be good.
All my love,
LouLou
P.S. Since I know you are wondering: I do not know when, or even if, Mama will be joining us. You will have to inquire of her directly. She is not speaking to me at present.
STRADA SILVESTRU
In Bucharest Lou felt herself breathe a little easier, which she hadn’t thought possible. She was so light already that she thought she might float away at times in sheer excitement, and seeing the elegant boulevards of Bucharest made her positively giddy. Not even the revelation about Lady Ioana and what she’d done to the other girls of the Smoke could keep Lou down, for during her journey she had made a silent promise that she would bring Lady Ioana to justice for what she had done.
When they pulled up in front of the mansion on Rua Silvestre, Lou sprang from the carriage before the footman could even offer a hand to help her. She smiled brightly at Dacia, who emerged from the carriage blinking and wincing, as though the sunlight were far too bright. It was a lovely day, but there were enough clouds in the sky to keep it from being too glaring.
“Coming?”
Dacia didn’t answer.
Lou studied her dear cousin and friend. Dacia had hardly spoken the entire journey from Bran, preferring instead to stare out the window and answer any of Lou’s comments with monosyllables. Stripped of her usual fashionable clothes, her hair down, and her face so remote, Dacia looked fragile and yet wild at the same time . . . entirely unlike herself. It was the only mar on Lou’s good cheer. She hoped that once they were safely away from Romania, her cousin would recover, but she didn’t know what to do if she didn’t. Dacia had often talked of getting a small apartment for the two of them in New York. It had always seemed too scandalous for Lou to contemplate, but at present it seemed like just the thing to help Dacia, and Lou knew that her father would not refuse her if she asked.
Yes, that was the answer. A place of their own, far from here, and perhaps college in the fall, for Lou. She let out a little laugh and squeezed Dacia’s arm. Yes.
Lou’s giddiness was dampened considerably when Prince Mihai arrived moments later. The cousins were still standing in the entrance hall, so they could hardly pretend they were not at home when the prince pushed past the butler who had answered the door as though he weren’t even there.
“You are back at last!” He made an expansive gesture, as though he wanted to embrace them both.
Lou stepped back a bit, and so did Dacia. Lou saw that her cousin was looking a
t Mihai with terrified eyes.
Unable to cast manners aside completely, Lou invited the prince into the parlor, though she was determined to get rid of him as soon as possible. She had to fight down years of training to avoid ringing for tea. She removed her hat, a delicate confection of lace and feathers, and set it on a small table, jabbing the long hatpin into it with unnecessary force. Dacia sank onto a sofa as though she were near fainting, of which Lou approved, as her semi-prone posture prevented the prince from sitting next to her.
“How fortunate for you that we have just returned,” Lou said politely after a short silence. “I must warn you, it’s been a tiring day.” She stopped herself just before she mentioned changing out of her travel clothes. Mihai always made such statements sound so intimate. “And when did you get back from Peles?” She tried to keep her manners in place, all the same.
“Yesterday,” he said. “The longest day of my life!” He gave Dacia a smoldering look.
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Lou replied.
Dacia stood up.
“You know, don’t you?” she asked in a flat tone. “You know all about us. About our family. So just say whatever it is you want to say and then go.”
Prince Mihai stood as well. His flirtatious manner dropped away like a cast-off cloak, and he looked at Dacia with an expression that was so hard it was frightening. Lou rose to her feet, feeling herself tensing and lifting out of her shoes a little bit. If Mihai threatened her, she could simply dissolve and fly away.
But Dacia didn’t have that luxury, so Lou forced her heels back on the ground.
“Good,” Prince Mihai said. “Since you are both still alive, I am guessing that you have successfully made the transformation into your true shapes.”
Lou felt thoroughly grounded now. She didn’t answer him, and neither did Dacia; and in any case he seemed to not need an answer. As he had said, they were both still alive. Lou had not allowed herself to question what would have happened if she or Dacia had failed to transform.
In light of Aunt Kate’s revelation about the fate of the other Smoke girls, Lou had no doubt that Lady Ioana would have had them killed if they’d failed. Even now she might be planning on having Lou murdered, to get rid of the only living Smoke and ensure that she, Lady Ioana, remained head of the family.
“And you know of my plans to take the throne?” Mihai asked appraisingly. “The throne that rightfully belongs to me?”
Now he waited for an answer, so Lou nodded. Dacia didn’t move.
“Excellent,” Mihai said. “I have other plans as well, you know. Deeper plans beyond just getting back my illustrious ancestor’s throne and bringing Europe to its knees.”
He looked at Dacia, and his blatant gaze made Lou blush. Her blush turned to anger, though, when she saw how Dacia’s hands began to shake, and the feverish color that stained her cousin’s pale cheeks.
“A queen who is also a shape-shifter?” He smiled. “Who could rip the throats out of anyone who displeases me? Ah! Such a thing will make me powerful beyond measure! And what could be more natural?” He pointed to the bracelet on Dacia’s wrist, and Lou noticed that her cousin was wearing the heavy gold bangle that Mihai had sent her. “The sign of our people is a wolf-headed dragon! We are meant to rule the world together!”
Before either of the cousins could move, Mihai seized hold of Dacia and kissed her hard on the mouth, his hands grasping at her back, her buttocks. Dacia made a strangled noise, and her fists beat weakly at his shoulders.
Lou exploded into mist, her clothes falling to the floor in a heap.
Mihai pushed Dacia away, temporarily sated, and she fell backward onto the sofa. He noticed Lou’s clothing, and looked up with a grin, his lips red and wet. “Where did you fly off to, little bat?”
Lou forced herself to take on her own form, but only halfway, so that he could see her there. She did it between him and Dacia, with her arms outstretched to warn him off.
“The Smoke!” Mihai’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “Very interesting. Perhaps you would be even more useful to—”
Lou tried to move away from Mihai, but without leaving Dacia unprotected. She went too thin, like a narrow wall of mist, then pulled herself together too hard. She almost became fully human—and therefore nude—just inches from Mihai’s awful leering face. She dissipated again, whirling between Mihai and Dacia in an attempt to protect the one and fend off the other.
“Get out of our house!” Lou screamed it with all her might, but she had no voice. Instead she made a high, rushing noise, like the wind through the trees, and she moved toward him. When her misty hands came into contact with his chest, he shuddered and turned pale. “Get out!” she screamed again, another whoosh of sound.
Mihai took two quick steps, as though he would break into a run, but then he stopped himself. He grinned at Dacia and Lou, and put his hat on with care. “I’ll get what is mine,” he told them. “I always do!” He slammed the front door shut on his way out.
Lou turned back to Dacia, who was huddled on the sofa, sobbing. Lou returned to her human form and grabbed a silk-fringed shawl from one of the chairs to cover herself. She sat down by Dacia, holding her cousin tightly.
“I hate him so much,” Dacia choked out. “But what am I going to do? Who else will marry me now?”
Startled, Lou drew back. “What? You surely aren’t considering marrying Mihai just for the sake of being married, are you? Dacia, don’t be ridiculous! Someone much better will fall head over heels in love with you, and he won’t care if you can turn into a . . . a frog! You cannot marry Mihai and let him order you to kill people!”
“Can I refuse? I don’t know anymore,” Dacia said, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m sorry, is this a good time?”
Lou looked up, mouth agape, to see Lord Johnny and That—Mr. Arkady standing in the doorway. When they saw Lou’s gown on the floor and the way she was holding the shawl over herself, both men blushed.
She drew herself up, pulling the shawl closed at her neck.
“We have had a most trying day,” she informed them with as much dignity as she could muster. “Prince Mihai has just left us and is no longer welcome anywhere near Dacia or me, and I am naked beneath this shawl.
“So to answer your question, my lord: this is a terrible time.”
The gentlemen looked politely shocked, and Lord Johnny started to say something, but Lou cut him off. She didn’t want them to leave, despite her condition. And Dacia’s. In fact, it was because of Dacia’s condition that she wanted them very much to stay.
“But I can hardly think that a better one will present itself,” Lou said before Lord Johnny could get a word out. “We have many questions, which I believe you can answer. And you will answer them!”
“I see,” Lord Johnny said, coming into the room. He appeared to be recovering from the shock of her state of undress, as well as her asperity.
Mr. Arkady, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her legs. He caught her staring back at him, and blushed an even duskier color.
“Mr. Arkady,” Lou rapped out. “Kindly remove your jacket and put it over my legs. Without looking.”
Mr. Arkady did so, while Lou ignored him and helped Dacia pull a handkerchief out of her sash. Then she gave her attention to Lord Johnny.
“Now, my lord,” Lou said. “I want to know everything about the Dracula family, our family, and why you happen to know so much about the both of them to begin with.”
FROM THE DESK OF MISS DACIA VREEHOLT
15 June 1897
Dear Mother,
I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
Lou insists that we return to New York, but I am not going to get on any ship that is headed toward you. I don’t care where I go, but it must be as far from you and your evil family as I can get. I would rather end my life than transform into a beast again, and I loathe you for giving me this life. For giving me this life, and then refusing to tell me that i
t was cursed.
STRADA SILVESTRU
The inner change that had come over Lou was almost as shocking as seeing her turn into Smoke. Dacia couldn’t believe that it was Lou, her shy, easily embarrassed Lou who was sitting beside her—naked, no less—demanding that Lord Johnny answer their questions.
Which, to Dacia’s further surprise, he did. He seemed only slightly discomfited by Lou’s lack of clothing or Dacia’s clear distress. In fact, he seemed to have expected to find them . . . well, not undressed, but in distress.
“You know the story of Vlad Tepes?” Lord Johnny looked at them both with his bright blue eyes.
“The Wallachian prince who impaled his enemies?” Lou wrinkled her nose. “Of course.”
Dacia and Lou’s governess had taught them the history as well as the language of their mothers’ country. Stories of Vlad, the hero of the Wallachian people, had been de rigueur.
“Despite his mad rages, and his penchant for impaling his enemies . . . and anyone he perceived as an enemy . . . Vlad Tepes was loved by the common people,” Lord Johnny said. “He was a just ruler, a strong protector, a builder of churches. The peasants felt safe at night, knowing that their prince and his soldiers were on guard.”
Lou nodded impatiently. “I told you we know all that,” she said. “Although I still don’t understand revering a man who impales his enemies.” She grimaced. “But I didn’t think he had any descendants,” Lou added. “I was startled when I heard that Mihai was a Dracula.” The name Dracul, or Dragon, had been awarded to Vlad Tepes’s father for his battle prowess. It was not exactly a common Romanian surname.
“Vlad’s son, Vlad III, survived,” Arkady said. “He did his best to regain his father’s glory, but his line died out two generations later, thank heavens. It was rumored that Tepes was mad, and the family has been plagued by violence and signs of insanity. But Tepes had other wives.”
“Other wives?” Dacia spoke without thinking, startled by this piece of scandal on top of all the others.
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