Into The Shadows, page 6
"I'm not lazy! How dare you question me! Who was it who took care of one of those men who tried to kill us the last time the master sent us out? Who was it who broke the prince's weapon when he tried to shoot the master?"
"You seduced the man! You played with him instead of getting to point," Verona contended.
"Either way, I do my share around here, Verona! Just because you're the oldest, doesn't make you our ruler!"
"Master!" Marishka squealed as they entered the room, Count Dracula sitting at a beautiful oak desk in a large, black leather chair, the material as smooth and slick as him.
The Count looked up at his brides as they entered the room and he didn't even bother to fake a pleased smile. He had been enjoying the reprieve from their mournful cries and though it seemed like Aleera had quickly moved on from the travesty of the evening, Marishka was at least pretending to be happy for his sake and Verona looked thoroughly exhausted.
Marishka was the first to approach his desk, leaning against the edge, clearly in need of attention.
"You'll never guess what news we got for you," she began.
The Count looked over at Aleera and Verona, who he noticed had just been arguing and though their presence did little for him, the tension made him smirk. He secretly loved watching these women fight. It was more amusing than anything else that went on around here, and though he was still put out by the events of the evening, he welcomed the distraction.
"How pertinent is this information, Verona?" he asked his eldest as Marishka stood behind him and massaged his shoulders while Aleera took her seat on the floor at his feet, resting her head obediently on his thigh. The Count instinctively stroked his youngest bride's head as she showered his remaining hand in kisses.
"It's nothing to worry about master," Aleera chimed.
"I didn't ask you, Aleera. I asked Verona," he replied with a noted degree of ice and the woman hushed immediately as he looked back at Verona, who had what appeared to be a slightly satisfied curve in her lips. "Continue my dear."
"I believe it could be of grave importance if we do not remain attentive."
"Let's start with the woman's name."
"Her name is Hera Garret. She appears to be about five-and-twenty, and she's from the future."
"What year?" Dracula asked casually.
When Verona told him, he stood up from his seat suddenly; much to his two younger brides' dismay and he began to pace about the room.
"Does she pose any kind of immediate threat?" he asked, making this an open question now.
"Well, considering she's from the future, that means she knows things," Marishka chimed in.
"Yes, but what kind of things? Is she ignorant to the past, or is she knowledgeable?"
Verona sat down on the sofa, watching her master pace.
"I fear she knows things," she confirmed gently, her voice unsettling and slightly deep. "Things that could prove detrimental to all of us if we are not careful."
The Count noticed the hint of concern in his eldest bride's voice and he didn't like it. Verona sounded worried and the last thing he wanted was all three of his brides being too afraid to obey his commands.
He allowed a sympathetic smile to curve his thin lips as he made his way over to the sofa and sat beside her, tenderly caressing her hair out of her face.
"What kind of things, my pet?" he asked with noted gentleness, his face inching towards hers where he placed a soft kiss on her forehead in an effort to soothe her. He ensnared her with tremendous ease, banishing her fears, her uncertainty, and her disappointment from this evening with an ardent kiss.
The other two brides began to whine and croon when the Count led Verona onto his lap, each taking a seat on either side of him so they could fawn over him, vying for the attention they so desperately sought.
"What does she know, Verona?" he repeated in sensuous tones.
"She knows the outcome of the war, who dies, when they die and how. She even knows your weakness, master," Verona purred and she nuzzled her face into his neck.
The Count's eyes widened somewhat at that piece of news, but he hid his concern well.
"Did she tell them, my sweet?"
"No, master. Though she tried, but something prevented her."
"At least for the present."
"She's dangerous," she whimpered into his neck, gently stroking his chest with her hand.
Dracula couldn't help but smirk as his three brides soon began to do what they willed with his clothes and to his body. He let them, understanding their need for reassurance, though his mind was more agreeably engaged with the memory of those sharp, honey colored eyes of this Hera he had met earlier in the evening. So she was eager to help the Valerious, was she? Even after he threatened to take her life.
The Count would never admit it, but he admired her bravery… or stupidity, whichever it was.
"She was probably bluffing," Dracula assured his brides. "I am certain that this Hera Garret is of no real threat to us."
"Shall we gather her for you, my lord?" Marishka purred in his ear. "She could make a lovely play-thing."
"No. The Valerious will be on their guard now, so just leave her be for the present. But I want you to keep an eye on her my lovelies… I want to know everything about this woman, what she is really about. We must determine if she is neutral in this war or not and if the latter, we will need to persuade her to our side."
"Why not just kill her and get it over with?" Aleera asked, hand slipping between his and Verona's bodies so she could reach his belt.
"Because we may need her as leverage if the Valerious brats thwart any more of our plans."
"How will we convince her to help us?" Marishka breathed, voice hitched when her master unfastened the front of her top, revealing her full and flawless breasts to his greedy eyes.
As Aleera's hand boldly found Dracula's length within his pants, Verona continued to kiss and suckle his neck. He took Marishka's recently exposed nipple between two fingers and lightly pinched, the action inspiring her to seek his mouth with hers as he fondled the sensitive flesh.
"You leave that to me," the Count replied between kisses. "When the time comes, leave all of that to me."
V
Proving Her Worth
Burrowed beneath several layers of blankets and linens lay a half awake Hera, her hood pulled over her head and ear-buds plugged into her ears, desperate to distract her mind from her very new and seemingly permanent reality. The woman studied her iPod in wonder. The batteries had been almost dead when she had been listening to it "in the future" and now that she was in the past, it still hadn't died on her and it had been on for a good hour or two now.
She rolled her eyes at the thought that had just passed through her mind. Now that she was in the past,… she was actually believing this now.
But what did that mean for Hera? Was she stuck here indefinitely? Would she ever get to see her father again? What about Isis, or Hailey, or François, or any of the other staff? What about her home in England, her room, her books, her tea… flushable toilets?
Although depression and a broken heart had been a regular thing for Hera the last few weeks after her break-up with Thomas, a very different kind of sorrow coiled around her heart and had her eyes prickling.
She was out of time and away from home, and with no hope of setting it right.
Hera quickly blinked away tears as she turned up the music in an effort to drown out her own thoughts, desperate to squash the alarming sense of hopelessness she now felt. It would be so easy to lie in this bed and just cry her very heart out, but what would that accomplish? The young woman's rational mind began to coax itself to the foreground of her thoughts.
What are the facts, Hera silently asked herself.
The facts were that she was in 1887 Transylvania and until she could find a way to time-travel back to where she was from, she was stuck here. After acknowledging that she didn't know when she'd see her father and home again, Hera did her best to box away her fear for the time being as her survival instincts kicked in.
She wasn't just in 1887 Transylvania, she was in a world where things like vampires and Frankenstein's monster existed – which could only mean that werewolves were a real thing as well. Hera's intellectual mind lingered on that thought. Now that would be a once-in-a-lifetime experience, she mused. Coming face to face with a werewolf. Despite the obvious dangers, her inner adventurer was fascinated by the prospect.
As her brain began to come to terms with her current situation, it was easier to find the positives – the information she could uncover regarding her dissertation would certainly be easier to come-by. If she ever ran into Dracula again (although Lord forbid) she'd have a primary source to interview regarding the Ottomans and the happenings in this part of the country in general.
And being in the Valerious manor meant that she now had access to the Valerious family archives – centuries of family history dating back to heaven knew when! Hera's inner adventurer was suddenly shoved into the backseat as the historian in her took over and she pushed the covers off her face, allowing the morning air to cool her flushed cheeks.
Her eyes soon found the window, the light of the sun streaming through, illuminating the dark mountains that surrounded the village. Curiosity began to gnaw at her insides, pleading for her to go on an adventure, to climb those mountains, to search for Castle Dracula, to devour the history and soak in this once in a lifetime opportunity.
Still gripping her iPod, Hera held her one link to home close to her heart as she slowly sat up, eyes lingering on those familiar mountains before taking a slow sweep over the room. Although a part of her ached for the comfort of her home and father, if she had been able to communicate with him, she knew what he'd tell her. It's the same thing he told her each time she got homesick whenever she travelled.
"Life is short and unpredictable, ma fille," Henry Garret would say. "There is so much to learn, so much to see and feel and experience. Don't let your ties to home keep you from living fully, from enjoying all of the pains and joys that the world – past and present – has to offer you. Home will always be here, waiting for you. But for now, wipe your tears and go conquer the world. I'll see you when you get back."
Hera felt the faintest of smiles curving her lips as the words of her father filled her with peace. Although logically speaking she was still unsure if and when she'd ever see him again, she knew wallowing would get her nowhere.
Determined to make the most of things, the young woman crawled out of the bed, shoving her iPod and ear-buds back into her sweatshirt pocket before pulling the hood off her head, examining herself in a mirror on a neighboring wall. Her artificially colored marmalade hair was a curled disaster, but after the smoothing of her hands over the defiant strands a few times, she pulled her hair up into a more dignified and presentable pony.
After washing her face in the frigid water sitting in a basin near the window, Hera decided it was time to go exploring – perhaps not the wild and untamed Carpathians outside her window, but the Valerious manor was certainly an excellent place to start.
With a renewed sense of purpose, providing an excellent distraction for the lingering worries that rested in her gut, Hera emerged quietly from the bedroom, sneaking out into the hall.
She took in her surroundings for a moment or two.
The young woman was presently in a relatively narrow hallway, the walls adorned with tapestries, pictures, and other beautiful things, very simply and elegantly decorated. Deciding it would be best to work from the bottom up, she made her way down the corridor, descending to the first floor. Surprisingly enough, given that it was later in the morning, the house was fairly quiet – no sign of a servant or either of the Valerious siblings anywhere. Not wishing to draw any attention to herself, however, Hera chose continue her exploration in as quiet a manner as possible.
She took note of a slightly open door and decided to peek inside. What she found was the dining room, a long table beside an enormous fireplace and a few large windows at the end of the room. Seated at the end of the table, with a book in hand while eating breakfast, was Prince Velkan.
Hera could feel herself blushing slightly as she recalled the rugged warmth of his face on her hand when she had accidentally brushed his cheek last night upon awakening. She had always liked Velkan in the film, but the fact that he truly existed and looked so much better in real life made her want to giggle like some kind of star-struck fangirl. But she refrained and continued her exploring of the house without disturbing the gypsy prince.
Slipping past the dining room, Hera continued on her little adventure. After a few minutes of looking into rooms, she discovered one that was fascinating enough to actually draw her in and out of the hall: the Valerious library. She knew, simply through instinct, that the family archives upstairs in the tower was where all information on the Valerious line and Count Dracula were, so she'd have to delve into that part of the house later. But for the present, she was contented to explore the hundreds of titles and tomes in this part of the house.
She found the essential encyclopedias and histories, but it was as she continued further through the library that she found some things of interest. The first thing that caught her attention was an original 1532 first edition of Niccolò Machiavelli's The Prince, in its original Italian. Hera's eyes widened in astonishment at the find as she gingerly removed the once banned political treatise.
Although the artifact in her hands was by current standards three-hundred years old, it was in remarkable condition, barely touched.
Beside it, Hera also discovered a third-edition copy of Thomas More's Utopia, and as she continued to peruse the philosophical and political works within this particular section of the library, the scent of books and dust soothed her in ways nothing else could. For the briefest of moments, Hera forgot where she was, for she felt at home.
The young woman explored the library for some time, finding a variety of books in different languages: Romanian, Italian, Latin, Hungarian, and even a handful of English texts. Being fluent in a half-a-dozen languages outside of her native English and being impressively competent in a handful of others, translating the variety of titles among the shelves was second nature. Hera had the wonderful talent that allowed her to retain and recall extensive amounts of information with unnatural ease. Her mind, she had been told on several occasions, was unprecedented, and for the first time in a long while, she was genuinely grateful for that.
The familiarity of the texts, the history, the setting – it made her present situation more palatable and less terrifying. Being subconsciously eager to maintain her current sense of peace, Hera continued to graze through the Valerious library, completely unaware that someone was watching her, following her stealthily through the rows and rows of books., observing as she browsed over each volume and novel in genuine fascination.
Velkan had heard Hera sneaking around and had decided to follow her to see what she would do. Although he knew Anna would disapprove, their mysterious guest from the future intrigued him more than any other woman had before.
The gypsy prince silently took in her appearance from afar and concluded that she looked loveliest when she was leaning against something, which happened to be the bookcase at this present moment in time. He found her hair color different, but beautiful. That marmalade hue looked like it was starting to fade, revealing a more natural looking auburn copper beneath, but in the light of the morning sun, it looked like her head was sprouting strands of fire.
She had a distinctly structured face, with pronounced cheekbones, lovely shaped lips, and the sharpest eyes he had ever seen, second only to Count Dracula. But unlike the vampire, whose gaze was always so cold and critical, Hera's eyes warmed him down to his toes.
Hera's build somewhat reminded him of his sister, Anna – a neat hourglass shape with a defined bust and waist and beautifully shaped hips. As far as appearances went, the woman was a lovely specimen; certainly more attractive than the ones in the village or the few he had seen when his father had taken him to Budapest for the first time. It would appear Anna had some competition now, seeing as how she was no longer the only beautiful woman in Visceria.
His lips curved into a devious smile at how vexed Anna would be if she realized she had competition in anything. She was what he liked to call "silently egotistical."
The gypsy prince had dozens of questions whirling through his head, questions he wanted to ask this captivating stranger: what the future was like, what she knew about his family, the feud, Dracula, how she could help them survive…
Well, you won't get far if you just spy on her for the rest of your life something mocked inside his head, so he decided to make himself known.
"You know," he said aloud, loving how Hera jumped in surprise, "it's not very polite to be snooping around someone else's home unattended, even if you happen to be a guest."
Hera noticed Velkan at the end of the row of books she was standing in and she smiled warmly at him, blushing slightly as she put the book she had been perusing back in its place.
"I'm sorry, I got bored sitting up in that room and I didn't want to disturb anyone," she explained. She could feel her cheeks flushing and Velkan, having noticed it, decided to tease her.
"The lady blushes?" he flirted and Hera laughed.
"Only because I had no idea I was being spied on," she said, that smile of hers never dissipating; it only became more radiant.
"Forgive me for being so devious, Miss Garret," Velkan replied, "but my other source of entertainment is out riding at the moment, and until Anna gets back, I'm afraid you're stuck with me and my teasing."
Hera rolled her eyes.
"Oh, heaven forbid," she laughed. "And please, call me Hera. 'Miss Garret' is what academics and professors at the university call me. Makes me feel so old." Hera instantly realized she had confused him and the flush in her cheeks deepened in hue. "Sorry. I need to be better at checking what I say. I'm sure half the things that come out of my mouth are bewildering to someone like you."
