[NOTE: cover image is a cropped and slightly edited version of a photograph of Charlize Theron for Elle Magazine (October 2001 issue), shot by the incomparable Gilles Bensimon. Link to original in my profile. FAIR USE NOTICE: NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT INTENDED. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO ORIGINAL ARTIST.]
Special thanks to Sleepy Bibliophile for betaing.
DISCLAIMER: this was initially intended to be only a one-shot, but has since evolved into an entity of it's own. As of posting this, I'm still not entirely sure where this is going, but I'm excited to find out! However, because of the general lack of direction at present, updates will be sporadic and unpredictable. You have been warned!
UPDATE: This story is now on AO3 & Wattpad under the penname MadameRemember. If you feel so inclined, I could greatly appreciate any and all support you have to offer on either of those platforms. Thank you for stopping by!
Something Wicked
"They would tell you of a maiden tricked into eating the pomegranate, not the woman who laughed and swallowed twelve seeds whole."
- Caroline Ruth, A Lie Called Rapere, A Lie Called Rex
October 1888
Budapest
Donning an ebony colombina mask, a young woman watched with thinly veiled anticipation as the carriage continued to race through the spreading darkness. Elyse Dormer was taking quite the risk, leaving the protection of her father's rented rooms in the city without his knowledge and against his previously made commands that she remain indoors, especially on a night such as this. But as the favorite child of a widowed Viscount, she had always struggled with taking "no" for an answer – especially when her best friend and confidant, Violet, Baroness Hays, had been so insistent on this evening's undertaking.
The Viscount maintained that Violet was the worst sort of influence for his youngest and prettiest daughter. The Baroness was reckless and manipulative, outspoken and rash, but Elyse loved her friend, despite her sometimes questionable character, and if following Violet meant adventure instead of absolute boredom, she'd trail behind her auburn haired companion to the gates of hell and back if it meant they could have some fun along the way.
Although if the Vilkova palace was truly the hell those superstitious gossipers in town insisted it was, then perhaps she could endure the supposed risk of eternal damnation. From what she could make of the house as they made their way up the torch-lit drive, the structure rivaled many of the grand houses she had visited with her father in her twenty-one years of life. With spires that pierced a starlit sky, it was an imposing piece of architecture. But the golden light that shone from within was warm and beckoning from the frigid carriage she and Violet shared.
As they grew closer to the front steps of the palace, Elyse became more aware of the way her heart was pounding in her chest.
Oh, if only her father could see her now! He would undoubtedly faint at the thought of his Elle willingly entering the "home of the devil."
Elyse rolled her eyes at the juvenile thought, as if doing so would dispel the quiet anxiety that had settled in her gut when they had snuck out earlier in the evening.
Count Dracula was no devil, she mused silently. The rumors she had heard about the "wicked Count" during her visit to Budapest these last weeks were comical at best – that he was the king of vampires, that he preyed on innocent young women, ravishing their flesh before feasting on their blood and turning them into one of his soulless mistresses. She and Violet had laughed for hours at the absurd stories.
But it was when one of her maids insisted that the rumors had validity to them that Violet concocted the plan to discover the truth for themselves. They would sneak into the Count's private All Hallows Eve ball, and would prove once and for all that he was no demon from hell. There was, after all, no such thing as vampires.
The carriage finally pulled to a stop and both Elyse and Violet leaned forward to get a better look at the house as they waited for the footman to open the door.
"Isn't this exciting?" Violet asked as she adjusted the gold mask on her face. "A pity Charles refused to come with us. It's that infernal lover of his. I told him I wouldn't put up a fuss if he let me do as I pleased, but the man can still be so disagreeable at times. Perhaps I should have let him bring his whore… At least we wouldn't be completely starved of male company."
"Yes – I think I'd feel a little better about this excursion if the Baron were here. Who knows what sort of company we'll find in there."
"We don't need my husband's protection, if that's what you're insinuating," Violet insisted as the carriage door was opened. "Come – I know you want to know if this Count Dracula is truly as villainous as everyone says just as much as I do! He'll probably be a disappointment – some ordinary, foreign rake who has allowed his reputation to be blown completely out of proportion," and as soon as she was out of the carriage, she turned to wait for her friend. "And we've dealt with our share of rakes in the past."
"Yes, I suppose that's true," Elyse agreed, nodding her gratitude to the footman for assisting her out of the carriage before her friend linked arms with her, leading her toward the glistening entrance. "But anything is better than wasting the evening in that dull hotel room."
"I couldn't agree more! Do you think we'll happen upon one of the Count's devil-worshiping concubines?" Violet said with a laugh.
"Do you really think they even exist?"
"Not at all. If a man like the Count were real, he would be ejected from all polite society before you could even blink. Do you genuinely believe there would be this many persons in attendance if the rumors were true? I wonder if there's anyone here we know?"
Elyse never offered a reply, for upon crossing the threshold into the foyer, all words became unnecessary. Within moments, the two women were surrounded by easily hundreds of guests, all masked and richly dressed in the finest silks, satins, and velvet that money could buy – the ladies with plumes in their hair and swan necks iced in extravagant jewels; the men's dark waistcoats glistening with gold buttons, and silk cravats tied to perfection.
Although the entrance hall was filled with bodies, the guests all chatting wildly as they came and went, the room seemed strangely chilly, frigid even, as if the roaring fires and candlelight offered no reprieve from the winter air gently moving down the corresponding hall. Elyse quickly dismissed the observation before her imagination could latch onto it, distracting herself by surveying the room further.
"I've never seen a house so richly furnished… well, a house owned by a bachelor, anyway," Violet whispered, equally as impressed as her presently silent friend.
They continued to travel with the crowd toward another pair of doors, which opened to the sound of laughter, conversation, and an orchestra at the far end of the hall, playing a quick-waltz. The walls of the ballroom appeared to be made of marble, the crown molding and panels lined with gold that glistened in the candlelight. Thick velvet drapes the color of blood shielded the windows, a few which were pulled back framing tall doors of dark oak. Statues bordered the dance hall, their lifeless eyes seeming to watch as they made their way through the room.
"Ooh! Wine! I'll go fetch us some," and before Elyse even had a moment to register that her friend had spoken, Violet had released her arm and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the young woman alone in a sea of masked revelers.
Elyse, though naturally fearless in social situations, suddenly felt terribly out of place. This certainly wasn't her first masquerade ball, nor was it the first time she had attended a party without invitation. But as she stood there, a solitary figure in a stunning gown, which held its own amongst the high fashions worn by the other women – she felt like an impostor, a fraud; as if every guest in the room was stealing glances at her as they passed by, as if they knew she did not belong there.
The sensation left Elyse uncharacteristically apprehensive.
Despite the silent scrutiny of the other guests as she approached one of the empty chairs along the wall, there was something about the scene itself which felt stilted, off key just slightly – though she could not put her finger on the cause. The party itself was the liveliest she had ever attended, the decorations utterly flawless, the guests even more so… and the music…
The steady rhythm of the waltz was having the most peculiar affect on her brain. The constant twirling of the gaily-dressed dancers, the relentless one two three, one two three, one two three…
Elyse suddenly felt faint. The entire room seemed to spin and blur, slowly, like something out of a dream.
Was it the unidentifiable, yet sickeningly sweet stench that seemed to permeate the room?
Maybe it was the music?
Or perhaps it was the dark man donning a gold cape in the center of the dance floor?
Elyse's brows furrowed when that last thought skidded across her brain, and with a slight shake of her head she was able to momentarily dispel her peculiar light-headedness, allowing her to focus on the man a couple of yards ahead of her.
The stranger was of handsome build, with dark hair, a golden mask, and the most intense eyes. He was dancing with arguably one of the most striking women Elyse had ever seen – a lithe beauty with red hair and a jeweled scarlet gown. The man's dance partner seemed enthralled just to be in his arms, but he wasn't even looking at her. His attention had found Elyse on the other side of the room and though she could not really make out the expression of his face, a single look from him sent a chill down her spine and she shivered visibly as though from the cold.
With every turn he made on the dance floor, his gaze always seemed to return to her.
That anxious, out-of-place feeling became more poignant in the forefront of Elyse's mind and she soon discovered herself feeling vulnerable, a little humiliated even, residing under this stranger's scrutiny.
Before she could lose her nerve and run for the exit, Violet reappeared with two glasses of wine, one in each hand.
"Isn't this a fantastic party?" the Baroness exclaimed, handing one of the refreshments to Elyse who took it with noted hesitance. "I'm so glad we came. And there are so many agreeable men here! Maybe one of them will oblige me in teaching my foolish husband a lesson?"
"Vi, I think we should go," Elyse whispered. "Something about this doesn't feel right."
"Nonsense! That's just that Catholic guilt talking. I've told you a hundred times before, Elyse – if you want something in this life, you have to take it. You wanted to attend the ball tonight, so we have. You wanted to find out if Count Dracula is really Count Dracula at all – and we shall! The night is still young! Which one do you think is him?" and after a deep drink from her glass, Violet began to study the multitude with blatant interest.
Elyse had struggled to keep her attention fixed on her friend as she spoke, but with the end of the dialogue came an end to her resolve. Her eyes scanned the crowd through the holes of her black mask and within moments, she had found him again – the intense, yet handsome stranger – only this time, he was dancing with a lovely brunette, also in a red gown.
The detail regarding the frock gave Elyse a queer thought.
"Don't you think it's odd how no one here is wearing red except for those two women?"
"Which women?"
"The ones over there. The man with the gold cape has only danced with those two the entire time we've been here and no one else."
"Maybe that's the Count!" Violet said a little louder than Elyse would have liked and she could feel herself blushing when the stranger's eyes found hers again – although instead of an unreadable expression, she could have sworn she saw those thin lips smile just faintly as if he could hear their private conversation. But before Elyse could comment on it, the man spun his dark-haired partner around again and disappeared into the crowd.
"Violet, truly, I think we should…"
"Now here is a tragic sight!" someone said and the women turned to find a pair of gentlemen approaching, both dressed in regal looking costumes, their faces masked. "A pair of stunning sirens without dance partners! It's an outrage, Lucas! An absolute travesty!"
The speaker was a tall man donning a mask replicating a human skull, his dusty blonde hair pulled back into a small ponytail.
"Niklaus, don't be dramatic. You'll frighten them," his companion said with a smile, and though the young woman wanted to believe he was joking, that anxious knot in her stomach only tightened as they drew near.
Was she being paranoid? Was her imagination getting the better of her? Or was she truly in danger? She hardly knew, but she never had the chance to ponder it further as Violet immediately began to engage the two handsome men in conversation.
Elyse said nothing as the others spoke, studying the men with uncertainty. They were charming to be sure – the one called Lucas especially. He had kind eyes and a sympathetic air about him, yet still Elyse could not shake the feeling that something was amiss.
"My friend and I were just disparaging over the fact that we seem to be unacquainted with a single soul here – at least that we can tell," Violet continued flirtatiously. She was already sinking her claws into the one called Niklaus and for a moment, Elyse pitied the man.
"Are you here just the two of you? Or perhaps your husband is nearby?" Niklaus inquired.
"What? Charles? He's too busy making a fool of himself over some overrated actress. I tried to get him to join us in the festivities, did I not, Elyse? But the man is impossible!"
"Well, at least you are not alone now that we have become acquainted," Lucas replied with a charismatic smile.
"And since your husband is not here to do his duty, may I have the honor of dancing the next with you, madam?" Niklaus queued, offering his gloved hand to Violet. "I see us becoming quite the best of friends." The Baroness accepted him without question, immediately lost in the gaze of the dashing man who pulled her into his arms before the two vanished in the emerald swirl of Violet's ball gown.
Elyse glanced shyly up at Lucas.
She could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as he took her in.
"And what about you and I, miss Dormer?" the young man inquired. "May I have this dance?"
Elyse was quick to discover that her tongue would not move. No word ever left her lips, not a single syllable was even uttered. She was strangely speechless and whether it was the unexplainable anxiety or some other nefarious power, she could not be certain.
The young woman looked out at the crowd to see if she could locate her friend, but all she saw was the man in the gold cape. He was alone now, but still watching her closely. His amused smile from before was gone and his intense gaze sent another shudder down her spine.
Without even realizing it, she found herself nodding in acceptance to Lucas' offer and the young man led her out onto the floor and into a steady waltz.
He spoke as they danced, but his words seemed oddly foreign to her, distant and strange. As he twirled her about, he seemed to draw her in with his eyes, and every time she broke the contact to search the crowd for Violet, he would pull her closer to him.
The longer they waltzed, the more unlike herself she began to feel. Although that nauseating anxiety from earlier was diminishing, it was being replaced with something far more hollow and frightening. Elyse felt muted somehow, as though she were a small and solitary being in a vast and empty ocean. Her will no longer seemed her own, for when Lucas pressed her firmly against himself, her instinct was to retreat, yet she could not move despite her mind screaming for her to do so.
Had it been something in the wine? Was this one of those horrid libertine parties she had heard of but had never before experienced herself?
No… it could not be. No drug she knew of could make her feel thus – so helpless and yet so very conscious of all that was happening around her. She seemed so heavy, confined, as though her limbs were paralyzed and the young man before her was inexplicably holding her strings.
When he spun her about, she danced.
When he pressed his hand to her lower back just so, she leaned back effortlessly into a low dip.
And when he brushed his lips against her mouth, she did not recoil, though his boldness and her inability to resist terrified her more than anything else.
"Tell me, Miss Dormer, are you frightened?" Lucas asked in low, suggestive tones. He caressed her cheek with the tip of his nose and Elyse was certain she would soon faint.
"Yes," she answered, suddenly able to speak.
"Tell me how frightened you are," he implored and she felt something scrape against her neck teasingly – his teeth, perhaps? But they seemed so sharp…
"Let me go," she whimpered. "Please… Don't hurt me."
"But isn't that why you came here? Isn't this what you wanted?"
"Please, stop."
"Yes, that's it…. Beg me to stop. I love it when you mortals beg."
Elyse went to scream, but no noise ever escaped her. She could feel his icy breath on her neck, the chilly moistness of his tongue running along her skin. Her heart plummeted into her gut as a confusing wave of euphoria and terror drowned her.
Oh, if only she had stayed home like her father had said. If only she hadn't listened to Violet. If only, if only, if only…
Lucas was no dangerous philanderer, and the lengthy canines in his toothy grin solidified that fact.
He was a vampire!
They did exist!
Elyse blanched in terror, but before Lucas could sink his fangs into her neck, she was abruptly released, and though her eyes were closed, she could feel herself falling… and then spinning, caught up in a whirl of inhuman strength as she was whisked out of the room in a blur.
When she opened her eyes, she discovered that she was now in an empty and dimly lit hallway. Whatever power the otherworldly Lucas had held over her soon diminished and when she was herself again, her whole body shuddered as she realized who her savior had been.
The dark stranger.
He had rid himself of his gold cloak and mask, but the ferocity in his unearthly blue eyes made her gasp, and in a moment of perfect clarity, Elyse understood exactly who he was – the infamous man she had heard all the stories of. The rumors and descriptions did not do him justice, but for some reason, though she had never been in his presence before tonight, she knew the figure towering before her was none other than the infamous Count Dracula.
She prepared herself to scream, but before the cry could even properly build in her throat he held up his hand.
"You will be silent, Miss Dormer," Dracula commanded and with a snap, her mouth closed. "How dare you enter my home without invitation? I would have expected this behavior from the likes of the Baroness, but not from the daughter of a Viscount."
"You know who I am?"
"Of course I know who you are," he stated with mild irritation. "It takes more than a pretty mask to acquire true anonymity, Miss Dormer."
"I am sorry for intruding like this. Had I known the truth…"
"What? That vampires are real and this was a gathering of the undead, you would have stayed away? Don't insult my intelligence. You are not the first ignorant child seduced by the dark romance of the supernatural."
"So it's true, then? You're really a…"
"What I am is irrelevant. You are in danger here, and this is no place for the daughter of a noble. Had I not intervened just now, you would have been lost to your father forever and that kind of publicity is not what my kind needs at present. Not with the likes of Van Helsing lurking about."
"Van Helsing? Who's that?"
"It does not matter. Come – I shall escort you to your carriage and you will go home this instant," and he began to lead her down the hall towards the main foyer.
"But my friend…"
"Is undoubtedly beyond saving at this point. Knowing Niklaus, your dear Baroness' reputation has already been compromised."
"I don't care about her reputation," Elyse insisted, suddenly finding her courage again. It was strange – she felt more like herself in the Count's presence than she had all evening. "If Violet's life is in danger, then you must save her!"
"After everything that woman has put you through?" Dracula asked, turning around to send her an incredulous look. "Miss Dormer, allow me to speak frankly – you are young, and I know the likes of the right honorable Lady Violet Baroness Hays," and he said the name with a degree of irony, "may seem exciting, but she is a married woman of nine-and-twenty. Her marriage is in shambles and in order to feel better about herself, she derives pleasure from manipulating and ruining the lives of younger and prettier girls who are easy prey. You, Miss Dormer, are such easy prey. You are impressionable, naïve, and if you knew what was good for you, you would leave Lady Violet to her fate."
"I'm not leaving without her," Elyse insisted boldly, though privately curious as to how he knew so much about Violet and herself. "I don't care if what you say is true or not, she doesn't deserve to be victim to the likes of Niklaus – or any man."
"Miss Dormer, I'm warning you…"
"Take me to her, at once!"
Dracula paused, evidently surprised by her audacious outburst, but when his astonishment diminished, his brows relaxed. He studied her closely, as if considering something.
"Stay here, and I will fetch her."
"No. I'm going with you."
"Miss Dormer, I must insist," Dracula said in softer tones, though it was clear he was gradually losing patience with her.
"I said I'm going with you."
He sighed, relenting.
"Very well, but be warned, what you will see cannot be unseen."
"I'm not a child."
His expression suggested otherwise, but he nodded silently and motioned for her to follow him down a darkened corridor. Without knocking, Dracula unceremoniously entered a room at the end of the hall, Elyse close behind.
What they discovered within was Niklaus and Violet situated awkwardly on a card table, the man's trousers around his ankles and the Baroness' gown hiked up past her knees. She seemed to be in a daze, the front of her bodice pulled down and her neck smeared in blood as two frightening looking bite marks marred her flesh.
Niklaus, sensing the intrusion, froze in place before turning his head quickly, eyes glowing and feral, mouth dripping with crimson. Elyse gripped the frame of the door for support and she watched as with a single movement of the Count's head, Niklaus quickly tidied himself, exiting from the room in a silent blur of cloak and blonde hair.
When he was gone, Dracula motioned for Elyse to enter and the girl immediately ran to her friend, lowering her skirts to make her more decent before examining the frightful wound on the side of her throat.
"Oh Violet…" she cried out, hand hovering over trembling lips. "What has he done to you?"
"If you leave now, I can have a physician at your hotel by the time you arrive to attend to her," Dracula explained, discovering Nikalus' silk cravat left behind on the floor and using it to bind Violet's wound. Elyse feebly attempted to rouse her.
"Will she live?"
"If you hurry, yes."
Dracula moved in and lifted the Baroness into his arms to carry her out of the room.
Within moments, they were outside in the cold night air, and the young woman watched as Dracula placed the unconscious Violet into the carriage. Without a word, he took Elyse's hand and led her in after her friend, shutting the carriage door with resolution. He then turned to the driver, ready to command him to depart when a hand grabbed hold of his shoulder.
"Wait!" Elyse exclaimed.
"There is no time, Miss Dormer. You must leave now if your friend is to live."
"But… I cannot leave without at least thanking you," she insisted. "You could have left us there, at the mercy of your kind, but you did not. I owe you my life."
"I was feeling uncharacteristically generous," he said with a hint of wry amusement, but his attempt to deflect her gratitude was unsuccessful.
"How can I ever repay you, Count?" Elyse asked, and the sincerity in her tone took him by surprise.
His expression softened before he smiled a bit ironically, taking her hand from his shoulder.
"Do not be so ready to offer yourself to a stranger, Miss Dormer," he teased.
"But there must be some way I can repay you. You saved me…"
Dracula, still holding her wrist, raised her hand before removing her glove thoughtfully. His flesh was cold against her own, and yet there was a tenderness in his grasp that she had not expected. He held her gaze with ease and she watched as he lowered his head so he could kiss her upturned palm. She flushed at the gesture, an illicit pleasure coiling in her womb as he regarded her with a consideration that had not been there before.
"Do not trouble your mind with debts now, my lady. When your friend is safe and all is well, then you and I can discuss your recompense."
Before Elyse could ask what he had in mind, the driver cracked his whip and the carriage took off into the night.
It would be some weeks later when Elyse would find herself in that same carriage, traveling along the familiar road leading to the summer palace of Count Dracula once again – only this time, she was alone and she had a personally addressed invitation in hand. She had been surprised to receive the letter from the Count, formally requesting a private audience with her at his home at sundown.
The young woman had almost declined the invitation, as it would be improper for her to be alone with a man of his reputation with no chaperon present. A gentleman would have come to her instead of demanding she come in all this state – alone, no less – just to see him. Though perhaps in a way, maybe that was for the best.
With Violet and her husband having relocated to Venice to finish out the winter season shortly after her recovery, and the Viscount away for the evening on business, Elyse could think of no excuse to refuse the invitation of this man – none that he would accept, anyway. No one would note her absence for the couple of hours she would be gone, and she was in the vampire's debt, whether she presently liked it or not. She only hoped that the Dracula she would meet with this evening would be the same respectful Count she had crossed paths with a fortnight ago.
The carriage finally came to a halt and Elyse exited from the coach with the help of the footman, whom she left with instructions to send for help if she did not return with further instruction within the hour. When her wishes were understood, she turned slowly, leaning her head back as to gather a better view of the house.
How different the palace seemed this night.
The torches, which had illuminated the drive the night of the ball, were extinguished. The golden light and lively music that had once flooded the house were absent. Upon reaching the front door, she found it to be ajar, not a single creature in sight as she entered, calling out to the empty foyer only to receive a reply from her echo.
The last remaining hints of day were her only available light as she removed the hood from her head. Carefully curled tresses the color of wheat bouncing slightly as she traveled with a dreamlike familiarity through the entry and down the hall toward the ballroom.
Though it had been some time since that fateful evening, she could still recall each detail with perfect clarity – the Viennese waltz, the stunningly dressed guests, the way the rich décor glistened in the candlelight.
But what had once been an immaculate and flawlessly kept home was now empty and in disarray. The floor was covered with dust – or perhaps it was ash? She could not be certain – and though she was alone in the darkened corridor, the walls felt haunted somehow.
At last she reached the doors she had been looking for and as she entered the ballroom, she noticed a solitary figure clad in black, standing in the center of the room that was flooded with the last rays of a dying sun, casting pink streams of light on the floor through one of the broken windows.
"Count?"
His back was to her, but she knew it to be him as she caught a glimpse of his profile, his head turned somewhat so he could study the trapeze wires still fastened to the ceiling of the upper level.
"Though I've lived nearly half a dozen lifetimes, I often forget how fleeting the things of this world are," he said, a sorrow in his tone she had not yet heard before. "I don't know how you mortals do it… living day to day not knowing which will be your last, going to bed each night with the faith that in the morning you will rise and that which you love – your family and friends, your possessions, your comforts – will all be there the next day. The uncertainty is… vexing."
Elyse watched in silence as the eternally youthful nobleman reached down to take a fist full of ash into his hand. He held it up so he could watch as it drifted back down to the floor in a stream like find sand.
"One moment, everything you have ever wanted, all the things you have worked so hard to obtain, to achieve, are in your grasp and then in an instant they're gone forever…"
When the ash had finished falling from his hand, he stood and turned to look at the woman before him, but for the briefest of moments, it was as though he couldn't even see her – not as she was, anyway.
"You have no idea what it is like… living for an eternity, watching the world perish around you, but you keep living on, the only unchanging thing in an ever changing world. That kind of solitude… it's not a blessing. It's a curse. It's maddening, it's cruel, it's… "
"It's unfair," she finished for him, and when he noticed the solemnity in her tone, his expression altered somewhat.
"Yes… yes, it is unfair. The unjust punishment from an unjust God for daring to take control over my own destiny," and with a clap of his hands, the ashy residue dispersed from his flesh in a small cloud of dust. "But I have not summoned you here for your pity, Miss Dormer. I believe you and I have some unfinished business to attend to."
At the reminder of her debt, Elyse felt her heart quicken and she inhaled deep in an effort to calm herself.
"Tell me, Miss Dormer – when I saved the life of you and your companion the night you entered my home uninvited – when you offered me repayment, was there something you had in mind?"
The question was brusque and to the point, something she had not anticipated and it caught her off guard.
"I… um…"
"Come, come, child – quiet your nerves. You have no reason to indulge in them. I will not bite unless you ask me to."
The darkness of his humor was meant to alleviate her anxiety, but it only seemed to worsen it.
"Honestly, Count, I cannot say…" she began, but he interrupted her, taking a step forward.
"Can't or won't?" he asked with sudden slyness. "There's no need to stand on ceremony here, Miss Dormer. Though you feign ignorance, I have lived many decades and have known a great many women – and your maiden blush betrays you."
Elyse suddenly became aware of how hot her cheeks felt, and his pointing it out only made things worse. Her eyes left his and fell quickly to the floor in embarrassment.
"Sir, I…"
"There's no need to be embarrassed. It's like I said to you that night… you are not the first to be seduced by the dark romance of the supernatural," and with his extended hand, he took her chin, gently raising her eyes to meet his once again. "I'm feeling uncharacteristically generous again, my dear, so I'll take pity on you."
The fingers that had been delicately holding her chin caressed down the side of her neck before slipping within the opening of her cloak and sweeping along her collarbone. Though her eyes remained fixed on his face, his attention had trailed down to where his fingers lingered, studying the soft swell of unblemished cleavage which gently rose and fell with every breath she took.
The spark of lust in his eyes was unmistakable and though the unspoken suggestion had a degree of appeal to her, the prospect frightened her as well.
"I shall spare you the indignity of vocalizing the way in which you'd prefer to express your gratitude, Miss Dormer, and instead, allow me to offer you a suggestion which should appease us both – for the time being, anyway."
Elyse swallowed hard in anticipation, struggling to keep from openly sighing in response to his touch.
"I won't ask you for your virtue, though sorely I am tempted," he whispered. "The devil knows what a pretty thing you are."
"Then what would you ask of me, Count?" she managed, though her voice was not as strong as she would have liked. How this man had such an impact on her, she'd never understand.
Dracula brushed the back of his two fingers along the front of her gown in a taunting manner before idly tracing the jacquard pattern of her bodice with vague interest.
"Two things, Elyse… I may call you Elyse, may I not? I think after the things we've shared, a degree of familiarity is warranted."
When she didn't offer a rebuttal, he continued.
"The first – I would like to request a favor of you. Not now, of course, but in the future, should I require something of you, you will comply, no questions asked. I give you my word, I will not ask you to do anything you will not already wish to do. Do you accept?"
She nodded.
"And the second thing?"
At this, his careful hand took hold of her waist and he led her closer to him, all the while holding her gaze.
"A kiss," he said softly.
The request should have come as no surprise to her, but still she found herself taken aback.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Just a token of good will, a mere trifle. I also happen to have it on good authority that in this I won't be your first."
Elyse lifted her hands to push him away, but he wrapped his arm around her before she could put any distance between them and held her fast.
"Now, now… there's no need to be modest. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just a kiss, my dear. Not a marriage proposal," and with his other hand he cradled the side of her face, the way in which he looked into her eyes calming her somewhat.
"Why would you want to kiss me?"
"Why any man would not want to is a more appropriate question, I think."
"We barely know each other."
"Perhaps… but relationships have been built on far less."
"But we're not in a relationship!"
"Of the romantic sort, you are absolutely right… but remember you owe me, Miss Dormer, and if I were less of a gentleman, I could finish what Lucas had started."
It was more of an observation than a threat, but whatever his intention behind bringing up the events of that fateful evening, it put an end to Elyse's struggle.
"Very well," she relented, though her hesitation still lingered.
"Good girl," Dracula said with a faint smile as he started to lean forward.
"Why do I feel like I've just made a deal with the devil?" the young woman asked him softly as he brushed the tip of his nose against hers.
"Not the devil, my dear… only his son."
And then he kissed her.