Into The Shadows, page 21
The Count said nothing on that score and proceeded with his inquest.
"Do you recall the particulars of our arrangement, Miss Garret?"
"Yes. Shall I recite them for you?" she asked with just a hint of vinegar.
"That won't be necessary," the vampire answered evenly. "But you recall, it was agreed that we'd meet twice a week at a previously designated place and time?"
"Yes."
"Then if you understand this, where, may I ask, were you the night of our last meeting?"
Hera's hands, which had been resting on the arms of the chair, were now folded in her lap, the fingers of her left hand brushing against the hilt of the concealed weapon at her side, as though she were seeking comfort from its presence.
"I was detained," she answered after much deliberation. She could feel Dracula moving just a little bit closer to her, his presence oppressive, the levelness of his tone unnerving.
"Detained," he repeated with hinted mirth.
Oh God, he knows, Hera thought hopelessly, closing her eyes as she braced herself for the storm she was certain was coming now.
"Would you be so kind as to divulge what, or more precisely, who it was that detained you?"
"Why does it matter?"
"Answer the question, Miss Garret," the Count demanded icily and she jumped in surprise when she realized just how close he was to her.
"Velkan. I was with Velkan."
"And what were you doing with the little prince that was so important as to make you forget your obligation to me?"
"I…" the young woman began, but she stammered, realizing that once the truth was spoken, it was all over. "It's nothing you need to concern yourself with," Hera managed. "I'm here now. Isn't that all that matters?"
At long last, Dracula finally stepped into her line of sight, dressed in what he usually wore, yet there was something different about his appearance this evening. Though on the surface he was the picture of calm indifference, Hera could see behind the façade that he was seriously displeased with her. There was a darkening expression in his eyes, a noted degree of disappointment and – though perhaps she had imagined it – even a hint of jealousy.
It became very evident to Hera that her moment – or rather, moments – of weakness with Velkan were a mistake she would regret in more ways than she could possibly imagine at present. She had betrayed the trust of the wrong man and given his reputation, she was amazed that he was even permitting her to breathe.
"Let's try this one more time," Dracula said as he approached, positioning his hands on the armrests of the chair before leaning in so his face was level with hers. "What did you do?"
Hera swallowed hard as she tried to sink into the chair and away from the Count's increasing proximity, but there was no escape. He had her precisely where he wanted her – cornered and at his mercy.
"I…" she began, but she couldn't seem to get the words out.
"Answer the question," he commanded, voice low and unnervingly even.
"I… we… I slept with him."
"You slept with him," he repeated, not in questioning, but just so the truth could hang in the air like the damning piece of evidence it was. "Forgive me, I must be fuzzy on the details, but didn't we agree that in an effort to ensure your neutrality, you were to refrain from having such an intimate relationship with his grace, or maybe I had imagined that?"
"No, that was part of the agreement," she affirmed guiltily, unable to hold his scrutinizing gaze any longer and her eyes fell to her hands.
"Look at me when you speak to me, madam, or I shall use force."
The young woman's eyes shot back up and to her chagrin, he could now see the tears beginning to gather near her lower lash line, and he appeared unmoved by them.
Hera had never been more afraid of a single person in her entire life. It would have been easier had he yelled at her or thrown a tantrum. At least she knew how to deal with people like that. But this, with his thinly veiled anger and the oppressive sense of control he had over the situation – it was unbearable.
Although admittedly it wasn't Dracula himself that Hera was frightened of – it was what he was capable of doing to her that sent a chill down her spine.
"Would you care to explain to me why you chose to go back on your word? Or is your generation completely devoid of honor and integrity?"
Hera visibly cringed at the insult. Her knee-jerk reaction was to strike back, but fear had effectively muted the protestations of her wounded pride.
"I wanted to be with him," she answered timidly, her voice barely a whisper, though she knew he could hear her. "I… I love him."
Dracula felt something sink inside of him.
Her confession rang in his ears and tore away at his carefully constructed mask of indifference. He could not explain why, but from the very beginning, he had felt drawn to this woman and the very idea of her being with another, let alone Velkan Valerious, made his stomach turn.
How could she settle for someone so far beneath her?
How could she not see her worth, understand her value?
How could a woman as intelligent as she think that what she felt for that infernal gypsy prince was love?
Count Dracula had waited centuries for a woman of this caliber to walk into his life and after months of patience and ignoring the obvious pull between them, this woman, this child had the audacity to refuse him and instead run into the arms of some stupid, inexperienced boy!
It was enough to boggle the mind and boil the blood and it left him wanting to shake her.
His hands, which had been holding the armrests on either side of her, gripped the handsome material in an obvious attempt at controlling his temper. Hera could hear the squeaking of flesh against leather and it made her all the more uneasy.
Instead of glowering in response to her answer, Dracula barked a laugh in her face.
"You love him?" the vampire proclaimed. "Oh you foolish girl, what do you know of love?"
"I know more than a monster like you ever could," she snapped, not taking kindly to being mocked, but that was clearly a mistake on her part. The Count grabbed her by the arm and hauled her out of the seat so she was standing now.
"Are you sure about that?" he hissed dangerously. "I have lived for over four-hundred years, Miss Garret. Though I may not be in love, I can recognize it when I see it and you, madam… what you feel for Prince Velkan Valerious is not love."
"Don't pretend to know what I do and don't feel, Count!" Hera exclaimed, struggling against his hold, but she could not escape him.
"Oh I don't have to pretend," he said. "I can see your doubts… right there in your mind."
Hera suddenly became aware of a strangely heavy sensation in her head, as though her skull was being compressed to the point that she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. She had experienced the vampire shuffling about in her brain before, but this was different. It was as though he had somehow gotten his foot in a door when she wasn't looking and now she was desperately struggling to close it on him, but she was no match for his weight.
She could feel him just as she could feel his grip on her arm, his more powerful mind flooding her conscious and subconscious, sifting ruthlessly through her thoughts, perceptions, and memories and the harder she tried to push him out, the more her head ached.
"If Velkan really loved you, do you actually think he would have let you come here alone?" Dracula taunted as he took every pleasant memory Hera had of the prince and unveiled each one, revealing ignored truths and tainting her perceptions. "He knew of our agreement, and still he persisted. Did he really think I wouldn't know? You knew in the back of your mind when you were with him that night that I would find out. Was he worth it? Was he?"
"Get out of my head!"
"Did it ever occur to you that your safety truly means nothing to him? He doesn't love or appreciate you! How can he love someone that makes him feel so inferior?"
"That's not true!"
"You were just another obstacle in the way of his ego that needed conquering."
"Stop it!"
"The means of achieving his own pleasure."
"No!"
"He only took you because he wanted to have you first, because as a man he understood that the most effective means of obtaining your loyalty was by weaseling himself into your feeble and easily swayed heart."
"Please…"
"Enough struggling!"
Hera was suddenly paralyzed.
Completely still.
Immobile.
The tears that had been trailing down her cheeks stopped as she stared almost blankly into Count Dracula's glowing eyes. She could still sense him there, in her mind, but she was unable to struggle. He had flooded her out and now it was as though she were a tiny spec in the middle of a vast sea, the surface of the water as still as glass.
She realized then when he released her arm and continued to hold her gaze that her body and much of her mind were no longer her own.
The man before her was in control now.
She felt simply what she was allowed to feel. The suggestion of each sense was his and right now, she felt nothing. Hollow. Her mind was no more hers than the very universe was… and the thought should have disturbed her.
But it didn't… because he didn't want it to.
Dracula could hear the buzzing queries in the corner of her conscious mind and he answered her as he located the small, ineffectual blade still strapped to her waist, removing it from its sheath.
"Have no fear, Miss Garret, I will not harm you. Though you should understand, for the time being, your will is mine now. Should I wish you to feel pain, you will be obliged to feel it terribly. Should I wish you to fear me, you will cower at my feet."
The Count examined the blade with muted interest before lightly resting the tip between her breasts in the direction of her heart.
Hera became aware of a swell of terror tightening in her chest for just the briefest of moments before that empty hollow sensation returned like a fresh canvas for him to paint on. Dracula then ran the tip of the blade down her front slowly, very lightly as to not spoil her clothing, but enough for her to notice it.
"I warned you, Miss Garret, that I was not a man to be trifled with," he said, hovering the small weapon over her stomach as though he were contemplating the prospect of gutting her. "Usually when I am crossed, my revenge is swift and sure," and he applied a little more firmly the pressure of the blade so she could feel its tip against her abdomen.
A single tear ran down her cheek.
With reflexes like lightning, he tossed the blade across the room where it impaled a large black spider that had been crawling up the wall, the action causing her heart to skip a beat.
"Fortunately for you, your usefulness has not yet expired," and with a wave of his hand, though she was still unable to move, she had control over her tongue again.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked him and his expression became rather Machiavellian as he started to circle her, his scrutiny making her uncomfortable.
"I haven't quite decided yet," he answered truthfully. "But I think it's safe to say we certainly need to level the playing field a bit, wouldn't you agree?"
Hera didn't particularly care for the implication of his comments and though she would not deny that the man was certainly beautiful, in that moment he was the last person on earth she wanted to share a bed with.
"You can toy about with my head all you want, but I will never submit willingly to you."
Dracula chuckled darkly.
"Still determined to think the worst of me? Well, we'll have to work on that," and he patted her cheek in a patronizing manner. "No, what I have in mind for you, Miss Garret, requires trust, and I think you'll agree when I say that at the present moment, neither of us trusts the other. But one thing is definitely certain – I do believe we need to reevaluate your current living arrangements. We can't have you falling prey to Prince Velkan again, now can we?" he mused.
"Then where do you propose I sleep, your highness?" Hera bit. "Outside in the snow?"
Dracula's eyes narrowed somewhat.
"If you keep up with that disagreeable attitude of yours, I'm sure I can come up with something far worse."
"Why are you treating me like this?" she suddenly asked. "Why do you insist on treating everyone like they're beneath you? Just because you're a vampire doesn't make you God."
"My sweet, naïve little spitfire," the Count sighed apathetically. "Didn't you know? In these mountains… I am God."
"No you're not. And even if you somehow were, that's no excuse. Why are you like this? I refuse to believe you came out of your mother's womb a tyrant, so what is it? Was it a woman?"
She had meant the question to be taken as the sarcasm it was, but when all humor drained from the Count's eyes, for the briefest of moments, Hera regretted her question. Clearly she had struck a nerve, or at least unsurfaced a long-suppressed memory that left him quiet and unsettled for a very long minute. He looked so far away in that instance and Hera waited expectantly for his answer.
This better be good, she thought numbly.
"Her name was Ilona," he said, his voice a nearly inaudible whisper. "And that's all you need ever know."
Before Hera could counter him with a rebuff and more questions, he extended his hand and touched her brow with two of his fingers, the contact sending what felt like a bolt of electricity through her body before her knees gave out and she fell to the floor, unconscious.
Verona entered the library later that evening to find her master seated in the leather chair in front of the fire with Hera unconscious on the floor at his feet. The bride moved into the room without invitation, seeming to float across the floor as she approached, her eyes darting back and forth between the mortal and the Count.
"Master?"
"She's alright, my dear. I have not harmed her," Dracula said quietly, though he continued to stare at the flames before him.
"How can I be of service to you, my lord?" the dark-haired beauty inquired, falling to her knees at his side, head bowed and eyes cast downward in submission.
The Count glanced over at her for an extended moment, something peculiar in his expression – regret maybe? Whatever it was, Verona missed it, not looking up until he spoke after returning his attention to the fire.
"Where are your sisters?"
"We are here, master," Marishka called out timidly from the hall, Aleera following close behind as they joined Verona at the Count's chair, kneeling before him.
"Verona and Marishka, I would like you to take Miss Garret down to the dungeons to keep Boris company for the time being. See that she is secured so she cannot escape. Then tell Igor to release two of the wolves with instructions to not let any person enter or exit the premises. Then you may return home."
"Yes, master," the two women said in unison, and together they lifted Hera off the floor and carried her out of the room, leaving Aleera alone and awaiting instruction.
Dracula allowed the uncomfortable silence to linger for several long and agonizing minutes until Aleera was clearly uncomfortable not just with the wait, but from maintaining her position before him. For a moment, she had thought he had forgotten about her and she opened her mouth to speak, but he held up his hand, the motion silencing her.
Though clearly irritated with being shushed, Aleera remained submissive, and when the Count was satisfied with her obedience, at last he spoke.
"I need you to do something for me, Aleera," he began.
"What would you have me do, my lord?" she inquired, eyes shifting down to the ground.
Dracula studied the woman for just a moment.
He had always found his youngest bride particularly attractive. Her hair was one thing, but her figure had always been especially pleasing to him – those generous curves and her narrow waist. He leaned forward in his seat and took her chin in his hand, urging her to look up at him.
"I need you to deliver a letter for me," he explained in softer tones, running his thumb over her plump lips thoughtfully.
"What kind of letter, master?"
"A letter of great of importance, addressed to Prince Velkan," he said, revealing the neatly folded and wax-sealed document before running the corner of it down her cleavage line in a suggestive manner. "And when you return to me, you shall be rewarded," he added, pushing the letter between her breasts, loving how her eyes lit up in excitement at the proposition.
Oh how naïve she was.
"Rewarded?" she perked up as his finger sank between her breasts, pushing the document as far down as he could before gently pulling her a little closer.
"Yes, my darling," he promised her. "I have noticed how you've come to think so ill of me, assuming that I could ever replace you," and he urged her a little closer, lips nearing hers at an agonizing rate. She was between his legs now, still on her knees and looking up at him like some kind of puppy eager for a treat. "It would appear you are thirsty for some individual attention, Aleera," he purred. "We are long overdue."
He allowed the tips of his fangs to show from behind his lips, Aleera mistaking the action as evidence of his arousal, rather than the warning that it was.
"Oh master, you mean just the two of us?" she cooed, running her hands up his firm thighs.
"Just you and me, Aleera," he growled, "alone in this castle… with no one to hear you scream."
Aleera shivered in delight, completely oblivious of her master's true intentions. He wasn't going to make love to her. Dracula was determined to make sure that his youngest bride never caused him trouble ever again.
Come morning, the Count would leave Aleera in some remote chamber of Castle Frankenstein to wait out the day on her own, naked, sore, and furious that some mortal had weaseled her way between herself and her master.
XV
The Deal
His heart raced and his blood boiled as he trekked through the knee-deep snow, Anna following close behind. Hera had not come home like she had promised, and the letter which had been discovered at the front door in the later part of the afternoon wasn't helping his outlook on things.
