"That will be ____ lei."
Eve counted out the coins and handed them to the storekeeper. She shouldered the groceries with a wince, for they collided painfully with a recently-formed bruise hidden under the cloth of her dress. Distracted by the pain, she paid no heed to her surroundings until she ran straight into a man. The groceries spilled to the ground, scattering over the damp earth. Ruined, she thought despairingly, looking at the dirty and broken supplies with horror.
"I'm so sorry, sir; I wasn't looking where I was going," she muttered. She only hoped that it was not someone who would inform her husband of the blunder. Although perhaps it wouldn't make that much difference after he found out about the groceries…
"No," said an unfamiliar voice. "I am the one who should apologise, Madam. Here, allow me to help you." And he crouched down beside her where he began to gather those items still salvageable into his arms. Eve peeked at him through lowered eyelashes, and saw a well-dressed gentleman with long dark hair whose skin had an unusual pallor. She silently accepted his help, grateful to this stranger for his unexpected kindness.
"It is a pity that not all of it could be saved," mused the gentleman. "As recompense I shall purchase for you fresh samples all that was lost, and perhaps you will allow me to buy you a warm drink as well?"
"Fresh samples? I'm not sure I could accept…"
"I insist," said the stranger, and placed a hand on her back to guide her back to the store. Amazingly, he managed to avoid brushing against any bruises.
The storekeeper watched them suspiciously, and Eve hung back fearfully, hoping that news of this would not reach her husband's ears. Her benefactor gave her a smouldering glance, and then said commandingly to the storekeeper; "No one need ever know of this."
A glazed look entered the storekeeper's eyes, and he blankly intoned; "No one need ever know of this." Eve's eyebrows rose, and a distinct feeling of unease settled deep within her gut.
"Now how about that drink, Madam?" said the strange gentleman, his eyes gleaming with some unidentifiable intent.
Feeling suddenly reckless, she replied; "Well, as long as you're buying, good sir…"
"Of course." He bowed slightly and offered her his arm. "I am Count Dracula. May I know your name, Madam?"
"Madam Eve Florea. So you're a nobleman, then? What brings you to this little town?"
One end of the Count's lips twitched upwards, but all he said was; "We're here." And indeed they were. Cristea's was a small, cosy café that Eve had never before had the money to set foot in. She couldn't help but bitterly reflect on how different things might have been if her husband did not squander they're fortune at the pub whenever he had the opportunity, or if her father had not done the same for as long as she could remember.
"Two hot cocoas, please," said the Count to the waiter, and Eve smiled shyly. Never before had a man acted towards her with such courtesy and chivalry.
The drinks were delivered in delicate white cups, and Eve almost moaned as the warm liquid slid over her tongue. It was the sweetest, the most heavenly thing she had ever tasted. She glanced at the Count when she was finished, and saw that he had yet to drink from his own cup of cocoa, but was instead reading a book with angels and devils dancing across the cover.
I wish that I could read, she thought, and gave a soft sigh. Her parents had not believed that a girl's education was worth anything.
"I can teach you, if you would like," said the Count, and Eve started. Had she said that out loud?
"I wouldn't want you to go to any trouble…"
"It is no trouble. It would be an honour to teach you to read, Madam Florea."
Still Eve hesitated, but then she silently nodded her consent. She had always wanted to read, after all, and it would be a while yet before her husband returned home from the pub. The Count smiled softly.
"This book is called Paradise Lost. I shall read it to you, and teach you the meaning of the letters and printed words as I do." He opened the book and beckoned her closer so that she could also see the pages. "Book I. The Argument. Of Man's first disobedience and the fruit..."
Some time later, Eve gasped as she realised how late it was. Already the sun had fled from the sky… "Thank you, sir, for I have learnt much, but I fear I must leave now… I must…" Eve looked away as she spoke. Truly, she wished that she could stay here with Count Dracula, continuing the lesson until she keeled over from lack of food. But she knew that she could not.
"Very well, Madam," the Count replied. "Truly you are a quick student. It would please me if we would meet again, that you might learn yet more."
"It would please me as well, Count. Same time three days from now? The east marketplace?"
The Count inclined his head in agreement. Eve gave a brief smile that belied the anxiety gnawing at her insides, and then turned away. She rushed past the rich white tablecloths and the tall, elegant candles, and then she was dashing through the streets, surrounded by cold darkness. When she reached her house, and saw the light that glowed in the window, she almost stopped breathing with fear. Steeling herself, she turned the doorknob with sweaty hands.
A fist slammed into the side of her face, knocking her into the wall. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. "Wher've ya beee-en?" slurred her husband. Before she could reply, his eyes rolled up into his head and he slumped to the floor, unconscious. It was only then that she realised that the Count had not once even sipped at his cocoa.
Nevertheless, three days later Eve once again sat beside the Count, eyes eagerly following the lines of Paradise Lost. The dark bruise on her face had been made invisible by copious amounts of makeup. Throughout the lesson, the Count's gaze continually returned to that part of her face, almost as though he saw straight through the cosmetics to the horrific mark below.
She woke with a start, turning confused eyes towards the Count. When had she fallen asleep?
"It seems that you are quite tired, Madam," said he. "Perhaps it would be best if you returned to your home for now. Would you like to meet here again, three days from now?"
Bemused and strangely light-headed, she could only nod in agreement. Before she left, however, she murmured; "This story's familiar, although I've never before heard it told quite like this. I suppose my namesake is destined to fall once again in this retelling?" She could not help but notice that the Count appeared rather less pallid than he had before her impromptu nap.
The Count's ruddy lips curled into a smirk. "Some consider the dragon interchangeable with the devil; the serpent who tempts. Did you know that Dracul means dragon, Madam Eve?"
When Eve looked in the mirror that night, she noticed two marks like large pinpricks in her throat. She shrugged them off, just as she had the Count's comment about the meaning of his name.
But then her husband's arrival home was announced by the customary stench of alcohol.
He shoved her against the wall and ripped open the front of her bodice.
She snarled and lunged at his throat. Fangs penetrated flimsy skin. Blood slid down her throat, sweet as honey.
She panicked as soon as she realised what she had done. She fled the house more swiftly than humanly possible. Clouds covered the moon, yet her sight, and every other sense as well, was sharper than ever before.
Count Dracula stepped out from behind a building so that he blocked the narrow path. Eve stopped dead, baring her fangs and hissing. The Count reached out towards her with a reassuring smile. "Come, fledgling," he whispered. Driven by some unfamiliar instinct, she took his hand, and they ran together through the village, and then the forest. Eventually, they reached an imposing castle where she meekly followed him through dark stone halls.
"Why is she here?" When Eve turned to look at the speaker she saw a woman; the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The woman was sneering, and a cobra lay listlessly across her shoulders, scales dull with age.
"She is family," said the Count, and jealousy twisted the woman's expression yet further.
"Why?" she almost-whined. "Am I not company enough, Master? What does that wench –"
The Count cut her off with an angry snarl. Eve shrieked in fright, leaping back with wide eyes. A puzzled expression came over the snake-woman's face. "What's wrong, girl?" she asked curiously.
"W-what's g-g-going o-on?" Eve stammered. "Wh-who a-are y-you p-people?"
This time it was the strange, beautiful woman who snarled. Glaring at the Count, she said quietly; "Please tell me you didn't turn her with no explanation."
The Count looked almost embarrassed. The woman's nostrils flared with barely-restrained fury. Turning to Eve, her expression softened incredibly, and she said frankly; "You're a vampire."
Eve would have panicked had she not been so relieved to finally know what was going on. "Is that why I'm not breathing?" she asked. Before the other woman replied, she continued; "The Count did it, didn't he? When he was teaching me how to read?"
"He was teaching you how to read? Ah, never mind, that doesn't matter. To answer your questions: yes, yes, and probably. I'm Ursula. Who are you?"
Eve opened her mouth, but closed it again before any sound escaped. Eve was the woman trapped by society and her despicable husband. The Dragon had given Eve the means to taste the forbidden, blood, and she had fallen as a result. She had fallen into freedom and knowledge. Having gone through such significant changes, having died, was it not fitting that her name should change as well? A new name for a new existence…
"I am Delilah."