Into The Shadows, page 59
The beast within him eventually grew silent as the young woman came into view, moving with noted caution towards him, eyes bravely locked on his. There was something about her presence, the look in her eyes – it soothed his raging soul and a warm sense of serenity washed over him from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. It was as if her very person dispelled the chill in the room and Velkan found himself ensnared.
The lights in the room were left to dimly radiate off the woman in a mysterious glow that – for just a moment – made her seem ethereal and not of this world. When she finally closed the space between them, he found he could not stay angry with her.
"I didn't tell the Count anything," Hera said softly. "I tried to tell your father before he left, but I wasn't able to. I couldn't save him, Velkan, though believe me, I wanted to. But this was supposed to happen. Boris was meant to die in this way, and you were meant to serve the Count in this fashion. It's Fate, Velkan. I had nothing to do with it."
Velkan wanted to dismiss her, to accuse her of lying to him in an effort to appease her own conscience, but something in his gut told him she was telling the truth.
Perhaps it was the evident pain in her eyes as she stood beside him, or maybe it was the gentle caress of the back of her fingers against his rough, unshaven face. Her remaining hand had taken his, and she squeezed it reassuringly while continuing to hold his gaze.
She had always been so gentle, he thought to himself. So trusting. So forgiving…
"I'm sorry you must endure this alone, and for the suffering and inconvenience I've caused you."
Velkan let out a throaty laugh.
"Why are you apologizing to me, Hera?" he asked face. "If anyone should be apologizing, I should be. I have behaved abominably. I betrayed your trust. I broke your heart."
He swallowed hard, unable to look into her eyes any more, her gaze too much for him to bear. He felt so guilty, so unworthy of her pity or tenderness, and yet here she was, despite their differences, holding his hand. There was no more of what had once been between them, only remnants, shadows.
"Yes, you did break my heart," she whispered.
A part of her wanted to ask him if any of what they shared had been sincere. She wanted to know if his kisses had been true, the love they had made real, but she bit her tongue and released his hand.
Velkan's eyes glanced behind Hera now as he noticed the Count standing directly behind her, something the woman was completely oblivious to. The vampire's expression was difficult to decipher, but it was the first time in a while that he had seen both Hera and Dracula together and for the briefest of moments, Velkan could have sworn that Hera's very presence seemed to soften his enemy's countenance.
"Velkan, I have to know," Hera began, but the gypsy prince's interruption stopped her before she could even get the words out.
"Do you love him?" he asked.
His question took both Hera and the Count by surprise, but Dracula remained silent, Hera still unaware that he was standing behind her.
"Do I what?"
"Do you love him, Hera? Do you love Count Dracula?"
The vampire observed the woman closely from his present position, watching as she fidgeted nervously with her hands for a moment. He could sense her thoughts rushing, her heart racing. He half expected her to deny the proclamation she had made to him just two weeks ago, but she took him pleasantly by surprise.
"Yes, Velkan… yes, I do. Although I know no one will ever understand it, and he will never feel the same, I can't help but love him. I know who he is, Velkan. Who he truly is. I… I trust him."
"Did you know that, Count?" Velkan asked.
Hera's eyes widened as she spun around, noticing that Dracula was indeed standing directly behind her. She opened her mouth to offer some sort of chastisement, rebuke, or denial, but she quickly realized she had none to give. He already knew the workings of her heart.
Dracula was staring deep into her eyes, although his face was unreadable. He appeared rather unmoved by what had just transpired, but oh how deeply mistaken she was. Velkan sensed this immediately and he chuckled softly to himself in defeat, gracefully accepting the fact that he had now officially been beaten in the battle for Hera's allegiances. He realized now that he had lost her a long time ago, that she was never truly his.
She had always belonged to the Count.
She just never knew it.
Nobody knew it.
Only Fate had.
"You know Count, she's always been rather soft when it came to you," Velkan said in a language he knew Hera wouldn't be able to understand, and though she had made a move to depart, she stopped and turned to look back at the two.
There was a noted flash of surprise in the Count's eyes as he recognized the dialect Velkan spoke – a supposed dead language – the language of the Order of the Dragon, something that the vampire had assumed had been lost centuries ago. There were very few people who knew of the language's existence, and even fewer who still spoke it.
The last time Dracula had heard it spoken was the last night spent in his father's presence, the same man who had abandoned the name Drăculești – a title given to him by the Order of the Dragon – for the name of Valerious, in homage to his more noble ancestry. The Count found it curious that the language which embodied the very thing Valerious the Elder had abhorred had been passed down through his children.
"Even before she officially met you, she had always been standing up for you… claiming that the man you once were still existed inside the monster you really are," Velkan continued, secretly delighting in how Dracula's eyes narrowed slightly in response to the defiant remark.
Instinct told him to put the insubordinate brat in his place, but the vampire remained silent, listening to Velkan's piece, his last one, for that matter.
"My guess is she was right. Why else would she fall so hard for you? I never dreamed of having such an allegiance with her, of ever gaining her full and complete trust, even when all logic and reason tells her not to trust you."
Hera looked between the Count and the gypsy prince with a curious expression. There was a knowledge in Velkan's eyes that she could not account for, whereas Dracula's expression was soft, attentive – focused. As if he were hanging onto every word that was uttered from Velkan's chapped lips.
"I want her to have what she wants, Count," the prince explained in that beautifully foreign language, and both men glanced over at Hera, confirming her suspicion that the conversation was about her. "Even if it's you and not me."
Dracula looked over at the gypsy prince.
"Why?" came the query.
"She deserves more than I could ever give her," was the answer, and Velkan looked directly into the Count's eyes.
Dracula had always been the enemy.
Ever since he was a child, Velkan had been taught that the vampire was nothing more than a selfish, unfeeling monster. The very demon from hell sent to kill his family. But something told him, deep within his heart, that Hera had managed to unearth something within the Count. He dared to hope that if given the chance, Hera would be able to nurture what little goodness existed in Dracula and maybe – just maybe – with Hera's love and this mystery hunter's assistance, Anna could survive this war as the last of the Valerious.
It was clear to Velkan that Hera's feelings for the Count ran much deeper than either men could fathom, and though his upbringing fought it, he had a sneaking suspicion that the vampire must have felt at least something for her in return – for why else would the Count be so possessive, so protective of not just Hera, but her heart as well? Perhaps it was because that heart belonged to the Count and in some dark, remote corner of his being was a desire to save her from any kind of suffering.
The prince took one last look at the woman he knew he would never have, and with a heavy breath his eyes found the vampire's once more.
"Don't use her, Count. I know what you've been planning for her. Promise me you'll leave her out of all of this. Spare her. None of us are going to make it out of this feud alive – you know this. Just promise me you'll keep her safe."
The Count remained perfectly composed as he motioned for the Dwergi to raise the platform on which Velkan was strapped to.
I have had no intention of using her in that way for some time, came the vampire's voice in the prince's mind. I have tried to spare her the ugliness of our battle, little prince, have respected her desire to remain neutral, and though you have no right to demand any favors from me, I will grant you my word that I will never compel her to choose between myself and your family.
Velkan nodded his head in understanding and then he disappeared, high above the rafters and out in the night air as a bolt of lightning shot through the sky.
Hera moved to stand beside the Count, the man staring thoughtfully up at the platform above his head where the prince was strapped.
"What did he say?" she asked curiously, careful not to touch the Count.
He tilted his head so he could look over at her, a peculiar look in his eyes.
"Nothing you need to worry about," he assured her with a faint smile.
Before she could examine him further in an effort to gauge what he was clearly hiding, he playfully patted her cheek and moved around her. All feelings of awkwardness dissipated as she rolled her eyes in an irritated fashion, turning on her heel to follow after him.
"Oh I don't, do I?" she challenged, arms folded defiantly under her breasts. He ignored her query and continued to walk, moving over to Igor and leaning over in a completely against-the-laws-of-physics sort of fashion.
"Throw the switches," he commanded, the servant complying.
"Why won't you tell me?" she continued to press as he moved past her and over to one of the dynamos, to pull a couple of levers, outwardly unfazed by the fact that Hera was still following behind him like some sort of shadow.
"You don't need to know," he answered simply, before shouting another order to a few Dwergi and then to Igor, trying his best to discourage Hera's inquisition and stay focused on the present, but heaven help him – she was so diverting.
How he wanted to just hang the project for the evening, take her home, tell her how he truly felt for her and then show her for the next few hours or so—hell, he could even go for the next few days—but he couldn't afford the distraction, not after all of the work he had put forth in an effort to get the experiment of the evening off the ground; and with his brides down below, awaiting his call, it just couldn't be done.
He had devoted far too much time to his own amusement when there was work to be done, and though nothing would give him greater pleasure than to spend his nights and his days tangled up in this woman, he needed to stay focused – and indifference was the only way he could deter her.
Of course, even if he made the choice to abandon his schemes and lose control with her again, he had been reminded by Velkan that right now was really not the best time to do it – and for less than obvious reasons.
"Why won't you tell me what Velkan said?" Hera persisted.
"Because you don't need to know," he replied flatly, starting to run out of things to distract him.
"Was it about me?"
"Yes."
"Then why won't you tell me?"
"Madam, I've already answered that question twice now. Can you please just take no for an answer? I'm very busy," and he turned to face her.
That smile of hers suddenly made him pleasantly tense all over as his jaw tightened. Try as he might, he could not stop his physical reaction to this woman and he could feel his manhood pushing down into the leg of his trousers, hard and demanding. He very smoothly pulled his jacket tighter around his body in an effort to conceal his state as he struggled to remain unruffled and apathetic.
This female had no idea what she did to him! And all she did was smile!
No, he thought. It's the way she's smiling.
Yes, that's what did it.
"Please?" she begged, her tone drenched in honey, but there was a vixen-like flirtatiousness in her eyes that made his inner demon pace furiously behind the cage of his ribs, suddenly eager for freedom. Dracula bit down on his tongue and he bit hard.
"No."
Then he turned and quickly materialized in front of the exit, retreating into the darkened hall. He needed air, a moment to collect himself, to regain control over the raging beast inside of him – the one that wanted nothing more than to devour that unsuspecting mortal female whole. He almost made it out unnoticed, but the grabbing of his cloak had caught the ever-perceptive attention of Miss Garret, and she ran towards the door to catch up with him.
"Why won't you tell me?" she persisted. "Is it really that bad?"
"Hera, please," he pleaded with her, clipping his cloak. "What Velkan said is of no matter. I don't understand why you're so keen on knowing, anyway."
"Because I hate not knowing," she explained, "and you're running away from me, which makes it all the more suspicious."
Hera was having to lightly jog to keep up with him and after turning round a corner towards a more remote part of the castle, she finally gave up.
"God, you know what? Fine. Fine!" she suddenly exclaimed.
Her outburst got him to stop and he turned to look back at her.
He bit back a chuckle when he took in the sight she presented, with her lightly flushed cheeks which were only accentuated by the hue of her hair. Her arms were crossed beneath her breasts and the rigidity of her stance told him she was anything but pleased with him.
He found her irritation humorous and even a little adorable, and though a part of him longed to put her out of her misery, he had sworn to himself that he would never reveal just how much he returned the woman's feelings.
It was for her own good, he'd tell himself, although in that moment, he was starting to doubt the justifications he had been privately making for his behavior towards her.
"Miss Garret," he began in an effort assuage her growing impatience with him, but she cut him off.
"No, just… forget it. I'm not going to force it out of you. If you don't want to tell me, then…" and she growled slightly, much to his amusement, "…fine! Be an ass about it!" and she went to move around him, but he caught her by the arm.
"Hera, wait…" he sighed, struggling to contain his laughter.
"I'm not fighting with you Count, alright? You win. Congratulations! Now let me go."
"Have I made you angry?" he teased. She flashed him a vicious look and he snickered. "Ooo hoo, I have!"
"I'm not angry," she insisted, her tone clearly unconvincing. "Just aggravated. Maybe even a little pissed off."
"Why? Because I won't tell you what Velkan told me?"
"No. Because I hate wanting you like this and clearly not being wanted back! I thought I could endure the lie, pretend that your obvious labors to entertain and placate my feelings didn't bother me. I tried to ignore the fact that your feelings don't even extend beyond your tolerance of me, but I just… I can't do it, Dracula. I don't want to do it. The whole… one-sided thing isn't cool, alright? I… oh… forget it!" and she tried to free herself from his hold but he wouldn't relent.
His evident refusal to release the woman only infuriated her further as a sense of humiliation began to settle on her shoulders.
"I don't know what I was thinking," she said, though mostly to herself, "believing that we had moved past the point of you just using me, but you know what? I don't blame you. You warned me from the beginning of your intentions and I ignored you and that's my own fault. So you can just carry on with your evil world-domination plan and I'll go find a corner to sit in… not that you give a flying fuck about me anyway," and she tugged sharply in an effort to free her arm, but his grip suddenly tightened.
"Excuse me? I don't what?"
This "truth" – as Hera had saw it – had been bothering her for some time now, and although she had suppressed it with ease before, perfectly content in the past to accept the lie for what it was and enjoy the pleasure and sexual tension while she could, for the oddest reason, the lie wasn't enough for her now. Even though the Count had gone out of his way to have her brought back to reside under his authority, Hera was convinced that the distance hadn't changed a thing a thing between them, and she found this extremely disappointing.
Dracula didn't particularly care for Hera's version of the truth, and although he knew he had no one to blame but himself for her bleak view on how he saw her, all efforts to stay focused on his plans with his progeny were now being tossed to the wayside.
Hera – his Hera – doubted him, and though it was exactly what he had originally intended, in that moment it was the last thing he wanted.
With a sharp yank on her arm, she was forced to face him fully and though he could see the hesitance in her eyes, he was thoroughly impressed with how she insisted on meeting his gaze. There was no fear in her expression – just a wealth of doubt.
"Oh please, don't insult me further by making me repeat it for you. Not that it would make any difference if I did," the woman insisted.
Dracula's eyes narrowed at her blatant insinuation.
"Try me."
XXXIX
A Man Possessed
"Try me," Dracula dared her through gritted teeth.
He wasn't angry, just… reckless.
"Why?"
"Because I want to hear what you have to say," he insisted, a little louder than he meant for it to be.
You want to what? his conscience mocked. Vladislaus, what has gotten into you?
But he ignored that nagging voice in the back of his head and focused every ounce of his attention on the woman in front of him.
"No you don't! You just love hearing me say how much I bloody want you! It's an ego boost for you, isn't it? I swear, you are so–" and she attempted once more to free herself of him, but he only held tighter.
"You honestly think I don't want you? Is that it?" he questioned, his face mere inches from hers, tone full of disbelief.
Her feelings on the matter, which she had now brought to light, bothered him when they shouldn't have. He should have ignored her, paid her no heed.
