Into The Shadows, page 56
Dracula wanted to prevent her from leaving. He wanted to lock her in this very room to be sure he wouldn't lose her, but he could not. She was not his – she didn't belong to anyone.
Hera was supposed to stay neutral and love was anything but.
Had the situation been different, had Count Dracula been a man not bound by fate, he would have told her the truth, as frightening and unnatural as that truth may have seemed to him. But he could not.
He was cursed, and with that curse came a price he just wasn't willing to pay – not when the cost could be Hera's life.
No, he thought to himself. It was better that she left now, for if she stayed, he would lose his resolve and it wouldn't matter how much he loved her and how much she loved him – the demon would get what it wanted.
In the end, the demon always got what it wanted.
Unlike Hera, Dracula's soul was not entirely his.
How he envied her freedom.
The pregnant silence between them was soon interrupted by the sound of the Count's brides calling for him from the foyer down below.
"Master! Master, where are you?"
Although immediately displeased that they had disobeyed his wishes to stay away, in that moment he was grateful for their timing, for it gave him the strength and the excuse to step to one side and let Hera leave.
She quietly moved passed him, never uttering a farewell or any further explanation.
Just silence and the light scent of her perfume hitting him in a small gust of air when she walked by. Dracula's hand twitched, eager to grab her wrist, to stop her, to pull her into his arms and kiss her one last time, but he refrained. If she believed him indifferent, it would be easier. After all, he knew in his gut that the two of them had been doomed from the very beginning.
She was a human—the hunted, the innocent prey.
He was a vampire—the predator, the villain.
That unforgiving reality was enough to keep him in check as he watched her disappear around the bend and down the stairs, leaving him to hunger after her.
Count Dracula felt the human's absence immediately and with her exit came a destruction of his peace.
The vampire ignored the calls of his brides as he made his way back to the laboratory, just in time to see Hera dash across the courtyard and into the forest from the large window on the far end of the room, feeling as though a piece of his soul had been violently torn from his body.
As the rain turned to snow, the Count closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, clinging to the memory of her confession, the tears of disappointment in her eyes, the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks.
It was for the best, he told himself; and, as his brides reminded him when they entered the room, it was time to get back to work.
He had lingered in distraction long enough.
He'd see Hera again, perhaps even during a time when he'd be in the clear and at liberty to love her as he wished to. But in the meantime, he had work to do. The man that had been creeping out day by day in Hera's presence sank back within the recesses of the vampire's body, and the monster had full reign once again.
XXXVII
The Hunter from Rome
"Hera? Hera! Wake up!" Anna called, shaking the woman's shoulder after throwing open the heavy drapes that covered the windows.
Hera groaned and made an attempt to shield her eyes from the blinding light of the sun, but the Valerious woman wrenched the covers off the bed, leaving Hera to curl into a ball and tuck her legs beneath the skirt of her nightgown. She had grown so used to living nocturnally that she had nearly forgotten what the sun looked like.
How utterly depressing, she thought to herself as she peeled her eyes open to find Anna standing near the edge of her bed.
"What is it, Anna?" Hera sighed, yawning loudly before stretching, the action followed by loud cracking noises in her joints that would have made any other individual cringe. Anna, however, was totally unfazed by it.
"It's practically noon! You've been asleep for hours!"
"So?" the woman grumbled, burying her face into the soft, feather pillow as a cool, mountain breeze blew in through the open window.
Anna laughed and snatched the pillow out from underneath Hera's head.
"So…" she teased. "So you've wasted more than half the day. Now come on!" and she grabbed hold of Hera's ankle and began to drag her off the bed. Hera chuckled, finally sitting up as she wiped the sleepiness from her face.
"Alright, alright! Let me bathe really quick and I'll be down in an hour."
"Half hour! And hurry! There's somebody I want you to meet!"
"Who on earth could I possibly need to meet that I haven't met already?" she asked sleepily, but the princess merely replied with a mischievous,
"You'll see!"
Hera sent the woman a strange look.
She had never seen Anna so… so… she couldn't even think of a word to describe the Valerious woman. She had just lost her brother not even two weeks ago and here she was, acting like some good-natured, overly happy, secretive… girl.
Hera waved for Anna to leave, and the gypsy princess exited out into the hall. Not even bothering to lock her door, Hera disrobed and stepped into the freestanding tub after it had been filled.
A dreamy, contented sigh escaped her lips as the hot water lapped against her naked skin and she rested her head on the edge of the tub, her hair pulled back into a loose bun with a large pin.
Anna and this mystery person of hers could wait.
Right now all Hera wanted to do was soak in this hot bath, maybe even fall back asleep? Either way, she was comfortable. The steam from the water began to fill the small bathroom, fogging up the three large windows on the far end of the chamber; one of them cracked open just a little for ventilation.
The scented oils and salts that she had put into the tub created a beautiful aroma that had been intended to act like a relaxant but became more like an aphrodisiac. As they always did when she was alone, her thoughts leisurely made their way towards Dracula. She hadn't seen the vampire king in well over a week and already she was having withdraws.
She'd daydream about him whenever she could – usually erotic fantasies, where he'd make love to her in the still of the night, or by a roaring fire on a fur rug in a library, or in the very tub in which she now bathed, but in the heat of her dreams, she could often hear Anna calling her from downstairs.
Right now was no exception.
Hera let out a groan of irritation, shoving her bleeding romances from her mind as she pulled herself out of the tub, stark naked and glistening, an irritable expression on her face.
Anna drove her positively crazy sometimes!
"Alright!" Hera shouted cantankerously, yanking the large towel off of the bar on the wall as she stepped out and marched into the room, barely decent. She grumbled as she searched for some clean clothes, the towel draped over her shoulder instead of wrapped around her body as it should have been.
With an "ah-ha" she found a blouse and she threw it onto the bed with a pair of pants, finally deciding to get dry. When she was done with the towel, she tossed it across the room towards the pile of dirty laundry just as there was a knock at the door. Her "not yet" must have been misinterpreted as a "come in," because as the linen went airborne, the door to her bedroom began to open and Hera's world was suddenly moving in slow motion.
She reached out for the towel that was long gone, halfway through a "no" just as the door swung wide open and standing there was a face she had never expected to see.
Gabriel Van Helsing.
Hera screamed as his dark brown eyes fell upon her naked body and she crouched down beside the bed in an attempt to cover herself but the damage was done. From the expression on his face, the hunter had seen every inch of her. Thankfully the man was quick to react, because the promptly slammed the door shut before Carl and Anna could catch up with him.
The princess could be heard on the other side out in the hall.
"What is it?"
Hera could taste Van Helsing's discomfort and embarrassment as he cleared his throat.
"I thought she said 'come in,'" he seemed to say, and when what sounded like Carl's voice joined him in the hall, he continued with a firmer, "She's not quite ready yet."
Hera's palm collided with her forehead and she groaned, burying her face into the mattress as she tried not to laugh at her misfortunes.
Great. Just about every male main character had seen her naked: Velkan, Dracula, and now Van Helsing. Who was left? Carl?
"What do you mean?" Anna asked and Hera could hear the doorknob turning and she began to panic again.
"NO!" she shouted at the door. "Don't open it!"
"Hera? What's going on in there?" Anna called as Hera hastily pulled on her clothes.
"Nothing," Van Helsing insisted. "Come along, Carl…Anna…"
Just as the company turned to leave, Hera threw open her bedroom door, fully dressed, hair still damp, and cheeks very flushed.
"What the actual hell?" she barked, attacking Van Helsing immediately. "When did 'not yet' take on the definition of 'please come barging in?'"
"I'm sorry. I didn't know that was your room," he explained as calmly as he could; the image of a nude Hera still burned in his eyes. Apparently that copper auburn hair was natural after all. "Anna was showing us where we'd be staying and I thought she pointed to this door, not the one over there. I made sure to knock first."
Hera sent him a look.
"That's no excuse!" she snapped, indifferent to the looks of shock on the other's faces. "Seriously, Gabriel, didn't your mother teach you not to just go bounding into rooms when you're in someone else's home? Or have you been living for so goddamn long, you can't even remember what common courtesy is?"
Van Helsing was floored as he stood there in the hall as this dragon of a woman practically screamed at him. How did she know he couldn't remember anything? And she knew his name? His real name?
"Look, I don't know who you are, or how you know my name," he began, starting to get in her face, but she cut him off, suddenly remembering Dracula's history with this man.
Anger—maybe even a degree of possessive-laced loyalty—had suddenly hijacked her system as she recalled how this very man had not only been responsible for the Count's murder, but how he had willingly succumbed to the advances of Dracula's psychotic wife, Ilona, in exchange for her life. For a supposed man of God to submit to the temptations of the flesh so easily and then to arrogantly parade around as a servant of heaven – the hypocrisy was appalling.
"That's not all I know about you, Gabriel Van Helsing," she said, starting to advance, possessed with the foolish notion that she could take him. Fortunately, Anna knew otherwise.
"Hera!" the princess shouted, pushing the two apart before turning on the woman. "For heaven's sake, what has gotten into you?"
But the woman said nothing. She merely gritted her teeth behind those lips of hers as she sent Van Helsing a nasty look.
"Hypocritical jackass," she grumbled in Italian before marching back into her room and slamming the door in his face.
Anna covered her mouth in embarrassment and turned to Van Helsing who exhaled loudly.
"Is she always like that?" Carl asked. Anna sighed in embarrassed defeat.
"Would you believe me if I said no?"
The hunter from Rome let out a throaty laugh.
"I wouldn't."
"I don't know what's gotten into her. Ever since she came back, she's been very testy and short-tempered. I think the Count may have done something to her, but she won't talk to me about it."
Van Helsing perked up at that comment and he watched as Anna proceeded down the stairs.
"The Count? You mean… Count Dracula?" Van Helsing called after her.
Anna nodded.
"Yes. Believe it or not, Hera is actually not from this time period. She's from the future."
"Really?" Carl asked, suddenly very interested. "How fascinating."
"Yes. She arrived here a little over a year ago. My brother, Velkan, found her. Hera knows just about everything. She knows the outcome of this war, who we are, what side we're on, how it all plays out…" and she glanced behind her to make sure Van Helsing and Carl were still following. "Dracula has been trying to pull her onto his side for months now. It's been an uphill battle, trying to at least keep her neutral."
"Why would Dracula want her?" Van Helsing asked. "Seems more trouble than she's worth. Wouldn't it just make more sense to kill her and be done with it?"
"Not that we're not grateful for your sake that she still lives," Carl quickly tacked on. "Although I suppose it makes sense that he's kept her alive. It's risky, but it'd be a great tactical advantage for Dracula if he did in fact change her loyalties. Because if she's from the future, that means she knows how to defeat his enemies, who wins; and if it isn't him who is meant to succeed, then with her help he can change the future."
"If he could manage to get that truth out of her," Anna interjected. "Hera's lips have been pretty sealed since her arrival."
"Still, the poor girl must be under a lot of pressure, being used by both sides. Must make it difficult to know who to trust," the friar added with great sympathy.
"Well, my brother sacrificed a great deal to persuade Hera to join our side, until Dracula got to her," Anna explained. "She lived in Castle Dracula for seven months and shortly after her return back here, she disappeared, no one knows where. Velkan was convinced she had run to the Count, had joined his forces. He told me the vampire had marked her. Hera won't talk about where she was, what was done to her, or what she's been up to for the last few weeks. But she insists that she's still neutral. Honestly I don't know what to believe anymore."
"I can see why," Van Helsing grumbled, watching as Anna turned a corner and proceeded to open a door that led to a very impressive armory.
It was time to change the subject.
"So, how did you get here?" the princess asked.
"We came by sea," Carl began.
Anna glanced back at him with uncharacteristic curiosity.
"Really? The sea? The Adriatic Sea?" but she then seemed to catch herself in her enthusiasm, instantly reasserting her iron control.
Van Helsing could see that she wanted information from them, just as he had tried to pry some from her moments ago, but she also needed to show them that she was in charge, which explained why she had purposely brought them to this room to talk.
"Where do I find Dracula?" he asked, deciding to get down to business.
"He used to live in this very house, four centuries ago, but no one knows where he lives now," Anna began.
Hera remained in her room for a good hour or so before deciding she was hungry and couldn't avoid Van Helsing any longer. She slipped out into the hall as quietly as was humanly possible, hoping and praying the entire way down that the hunter would be anywhere else but where she was headed.
Alas, the powers that be had other plans and much to her chagrin, seated at the head of the table facing the direction of the door was the Roman himself. Hera nearly spun around on her heel to head back upstairs, but the grumbling of her stomach told her to stop being so petty.
She made her way into the room with her head held high and her eyes anywhere but on him as she sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the table, filling an empty plate with some food. Van Helsing's gaze lingered on her a degree longer than Hera would have preferred and his scrutinizing made her self-conscious, putting her on the defensive.
"You know, it's not polite to stare," she commented before leaning back in her seat and taking a sip of wine.
He never responded to her comment, instead remaining utterly impassive, continuing in his open sizing-up of her from a distance. After enduring this treatment for an additional thirty seconds, Hera had finally had enough as she slammed her palm down onto the table, creating a loud smacking noise as she sent him a vicious look.
Evidently her frustration amused him.
"I don't get it," he finally said, folding a piece of bread around some cheese.
"Don't get what?" she asked irritably, relieved when he finally looked away from her, even if it was for a grand total of five seconds.
"Anna said he marked you."
"Who? Dracula?"
"Yes."
"And where exactly were you hoping to go with this line of conversation?"
The hunter chuckled as he stood from his seat at the other end of the table and moved to sit closer to her – but not too close.
"I apologize again for intruding on your privacy earlier," he said. "I assume the lingering mortification is the reason for your hostility."
"You'd be right," Hera admitted, relaxing a little. "But my humiliation aside, I also don't particularly care for the way you're judging me with your eyes. Please stop making assumptions about my character when you've barely sat in my presence for more than five minutes."
"Says the woman who called me a hypocrite barely an hour ago."
Hera smiled, eyes diverting down in embarrassment.
"Touché, although I think it's safe to say I know more about you than you do about me."
"That'd be impressive, considering we've never met before." Van Helsing paused, his gaze still scrutinizing. "I still find it odd."
"What?"
"That Dracula marked you and yet I can't seem to…"
"Sense any evil in me?" she finished.
His surprise was genuine.
"How did you…"
"Like I said – I know a great deal about you," she began. "Alas, much of what I do know is the one-sided view of a man you can't even remember," and she started to stab at the food on her plate, her thoughts diverting to the Count… again. "You can't remember who you are, what your past is, but you possess a special gift," and she looked up into his eyes.
Her sharp gaze struck a chord in the hunter and he caught himself leaning forward a little.
"Your life, your job, your curse is to vanquish evil. You can sense evil. And despite my admittedly poor temper and the mark on my neck, evil may stalk my shadow, but you know evil does not rule me."
"But it's clear you're not on the side of the Valerious family, either. Not entirely anyway," he commented with a smile before becoming serious again. "In truth, I can't really sense much of anything in you in regards to your allegiances. You truly are neutral in all of this."
