Want to keep my author's notes brief for this one (as the chapter is on the lengthy side) but I would be amiss if I didn't send a shout-out to you lovely persons who reviewed the last chapter - 12345678910, the invisible reader, Scarlet Empress, She-Devil Red, RegencyPoet, ForeverACharmedOne, jenny (you've read this before, haven't you?) ;) , alexc1209, Bloodsired, Guest, DreamBubbles, and ShadowSpade. You guys are seriously the greatest! Your feedback has proven to be immensely helpful and I truly cannot thank you enough.
Admittedly, this chapter isn't entirely where I'd like it to be, but I've exhausted myself trying to get it "perfect" (whatever that is), so this is as good as it's going to get for the present. Maybe someday when I'm less burned out, I'll return and clean it up some more, but for the present, forgive the errors I undoubtedly overlooked and enjoy!
Oh! And fair warning - the story rating is officially going up (although not a whole lot happens in this chapter that warrants it going up, outside of some unsavory language and a hint of lemon/madness near the end. Nothing too scandalous just yet, but would rather be safe than sorry).
XI
An Unexpected Knock at the Door
"She said what?!" the Count exclaimed. His voice echoed off of the high ceilings as he whirled around to face Verona who had just concluded relating the story of Hera's obstinate refusal. "Are you certain that is what she said?"
"Word for word, master," Verona answered penitently, trying to stay as calm as she could, considering the evident frustration her master was now experiencing. His temper had a habit of being unpredictable.
Aleera and Marishka stood close behind the eldest bride, watching as the Count paced rather furiously in an attempt to properly organize this thoughts and assuage his current irritation. He had to be careful with his next move now, as there were evidently many layers to deconstruct and understand in Hera's words. The mortal was unlike anyone he had ever met before and if he wanted to obtain her utter allegiance, he needed to tread carefully.
"And she really called me a disgusting, chauvinistic, womanizing prick?" he clarified, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone.
"And she threatened you!" Aleera chimed in almost excitedly, but she hushed when she saw the look of warning in her master's eyes. "She was very rude, my lord," she corrected with timidity. "She seemed to suggest that you weren't a.. a real man."
Dracula rolled his eyes before returning his attention back to his eldest bride who sighed in part annoyance, part humiliation for Aleera's behavior. That woman needed to learn when not to talk.
"Hera is a very bold mortal," Verona explained. "She does not fear our kind, nor does she fear you. I am concerned that if we don't create some kind of alliance with her soon, she will not stay neutral for long. She becomes increasingly attached to the Valerious with every day that passes."
Dracula continued to pace.
"I know, Verona, I know…"
"The prince's attentions to her have been particularly noted and if we don't act soon while he's away, her alliance with that family will become inevitable… and you said that she knows your secret…"
"Did it ever occur to you that I already considered that, Verona?" he interrupted with thinly veiled agitation.
His outburst resulted in the cowering of his brides as his control temporarily slipped.
"That infernal woman is like dry sand! I can't hold onto her! Just when I think I have her, she is fighting me, slipping through my fingers no matter how hard I squeeze," and he stared at his palm thoughtfully. "She may know some of my secrets, but not all of them. If she did, she would make certain that the Valerious family never let any of us within an inch of her. I need to use that ignorance against her while I still can, and soon before the prince makes his move. If she claims loyalty with the Valerious, we are done for!" and he angrily shoved a neighboring candelabra, unmoved when it crashed to the floor.
The three women huddled at the far end of the chamber jumped at the sound and the two youngest began to whimper.
"Master?" Marishka called timidly.
Dracula looked up at his fearful brides and he sighed, relaxing as he held out his hand.
"Come here, my love," he said and Marishka instantly came to him, nuzzling her face into his broad chest. He looked up at the remaining two and silently beckoned them as well, pleased as they obeyed one by one, first Aleera and then eventually Verona. The eldest stood behind him, arms wrapped around his middle, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
"What are we going to do, my lord?" the dark haired beauty whispered as Aleera and Marishka fawned over the man who barely took note of them.
"I'll think of something," he said resolutely and he leaned against her somewhat, pulling from her quiet strength. "I'll think of something."
The Count lingered within his private study in silence, the fire that burned in the hearth providing a useless heat and inadequate lighting as he paced back and forth, back and forth in front of his desk.
It didn't make sense to him.
Why was he so concerned about this Hera character? The plans he had were half-hearted at best and given her stubborn temperament, he wasn't entirely certain he had what it took to woo the woman not just in the physical sense, but emotionally as well. It would have been so much easier if he had just killed her when last they had crossed paths back at Castle Frankenstein. That had been the original intention – get what he wanted from her and then dispose of her when her usefulness had worn out.
But it hadn't worn out as expected.
And what was worse – he didn't want to kill her just yet.
Count Dracula liked her.
He admired her boldness, her wit, and her stubborn will. He found the extent of her knowledge fascinating – and it undoubtedly worked in her favor that she was an incredible kisser, especially when deprived of shared control. Yes, toying with her had been more than just a power trip for him. Those tingles of pleasure that crawled beneath his skin still remained and her taste continued to linger on his tongue.
But there was one thing in particular that had been burned into his mind, and though he wished he could erase the image, he could not. Those sharp eyes of hers – the heed, the fire, the splash of innocence, the astonishing lust. Never before had he seen such attentiveness, such a keen sense of observation, and how hard it was to keep her gaze with his, so strong was her will.
He knew why he couldn't dispose of this Hera Garret, though doing so would certainly make his life easier.
She intrigued him.
She fascinated him.
Naturally, Dracula was convinced that what he was experiencing for the human was, at its core, a mere passing fancy, something that would undoubtedly pass the instant he conquered her; but in the meantime, he could not ignore the very really obsession that was developing within him with every passing day.
He wanted to talk with her again, wanted to linger a little longer in her presence. Outside of his more physical attraction towards the woman, he also had so many questions about the future, the state of the world she lived in, the technological and scientific advances. He craved stimulating conversation, a dialogue that would force him to keep on his toes and pay attention.
Count Dracula was woefully in need of a challenge, and Miss Garret was the perfect mountain to climb.
But she had threatened him, according to his brides.
She had openly threatened him.
Dracula smirked at the thought of that mortal defying him, claiming that there would be consequences if he tried to manipulate her again. Sure, it vexed him to no end when impertinent mortals and immortals alike challenged his authority, but the fact that she wasn't scared was something he found deeply amusing.
Princess Anna was frightened of him – once more, another wonderful contrast between the two women living within the Valerious manor. But the thought of Anna sent an idea skidding across his mind and his lips curved into a grin that was borderline Machiavellian as he began to formulate a plan.
Perhaps he could pay the Valerious household a visit?
It had been years since he had done so.
Hera and Anna sat quietly in the library, the two of them curled up on opposite sofas by a fire, the former with a text of Transylvanian folklore propped open on her lap while the latter sharpened and polished various weapons in a mutually comfortable silence.
It had been almost a week since the incident in the village and though Anna had missed the entire conversation between Hera and Dracula's brides due to unconsciousness, Hera found it prudent to confide in the gypsy princess the events that had taken place leading up to and including that point – save her snogging-session with Velkan. Hera did, however, share a handful of details regarding her conversation with Dracula and the purpose for the brides' visit to the village, along with her own speculations, assessments, and personal suspicions as to why Dracula wanted to talk to her.
Hera had concluded that Dracula either wanted to ensure her neutrality, or he would attempt to compel her into choosing a side – an option Hera assured the princess would not even be considered. Naturally, Anna forbade Hera to go outside unaccompanied, even in broad daylight and Hera was contented with this prudent course of action.
Normally, the prospect of being confined indoors for an indeterminate amount of time was something Hera would fight, but given her present situation, she was grateful Anna was so adamant on keeping her away from Count Dracula. Staying inside meant being safe from the vampire and his poison-ridden lips.
The sound of a sigh interrupted Hera's reading and she glanced up at the princess who seemed thoroughly bored. Nothing of note had occurred since the brides' unexpected visit last week, which left Anna with absolutely nothing to do except sit and wait. Hera almost pitied the woman and her chosen stress pertaining to the whole ordeal with Dracula. Normally Anna was more in control, but with Velkan's continued absence and no word in over a week, her anxieties were understandable.
Settling better into the sofa, Hera allowed her mind to wander a bit, her thoughts naturally turning to the gypsy prince. Truth be told, she missed having him around. Sure, she loved Anna's company, but with Velkan, there was never a moment of dull silence.
Hera liked Velkan – although what existed between them was an infatuation and a forbidden one at that. But she loved the butterflies that fluttered inside of her each time she recalled their first kiss. How she wished Dracula hadn't spoiled that moment between them.
Dracula.
Her thoughts suddenly took a turn now towards the mysterious and lethally seductive Count. That man had the lips of an angel and the intentions of the devil himself. He was like dark food for the soul, and something about him made Hera feel wicked, sneaky, and deliciously filthy.
She was genuinely torn.
Both men were, technically speaking, off limits.
Hera made a face as she contemplated the strange "love triangle" – if she could even call it that – she now unwittingly found herself in. She always managed to fall for the unavailable men. It was apparently her curse in life – Velkan was betrothed to another, and Dracula was, for all intents and purposes, a villain married three times over. The last thing she wanted was to be bound to that man and his three other brides for all eternity.
Although she could tolerate Verona if it came down to it, where she was sitting right now, she'd be perfectly happy to never see those three again. Sure, they had their good qualities, and Verona was certainly growing on her, but Hera could never live with them day in and day out. Never. Especially with a sadistic psychopath like Aleera. She shuddered at the thought.
"Forgive me, Miss Anna?" Hera and Anna both looked up to see Sorina, one of the maids, standing in the doorway. "Can I get you two anything?" she inquired as she moved over to the coffee table in the center of the sitting area and she began to pick up the remnants of the light snacks and drinks.
"I'm alright. What about you Hera?" Anna asked.
"Thank you, but I'm fine as well."
The maid nodded and turned to leave the room when she bumped into one of the other servants and both came crashing down with all the food.
"Sorina, you are so clumsy sometimes, I often wonder what we'll do with you," Anna replied teasingly as she made her way over to the servant and began to help her clean up the mess.
They were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door and Anna sat up, exhaling loudly.
"Hera, could you help her with this? I've been expecting word from father and Velkan for days. Maybe it's the post."
Hera made a face as she knelt beside Sorina.
"At this time of night?" she mused. "I doubt it …" and she watched the gypsy princess stand up, dusting herself off of the crumbs on her lap before she left the room and made her way to the main foyer. Hera listened as Anna moved down the hall towards the front door, asking one of the other servants to go help clean up in the library. She then returned her attention to the preoccupied maid beside her.
"You've been kind of jumpy the last night or two, Sorina. Is everything alright?"
"I'm alright, Miss. Actually, to own the truth, I think I may be ill."
"Outside of your nervousness, you seem fine to me."
"True, but I've been seeing things on the grounds outside of the manor the last few nights."
"What kind of things?"
"Well, a man, to be specific."
Hera felt something unsettling in the pit of her stomach suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she turned her head to look at the maid whose voice had grown more hushed as the conversation continued.
"Did you recognize this man?"
"I think so, miss, but I could be wrong."
"Who was he?"
"I think it was Co…" but she was never allowed to finish her sentence.
The sound of Anna screaming and slamming the front door rang out through the house and left an unpleasant tension to hang in the air.
Hera stood, leaning her head out into the empty hall, her ears acute to the silence.
"Anna? Anna, what is it? Everything okay?" Hera called cautiously as she moved over to the door slowly, the stillness in the air eerie and foreboding. The moment she stepped out into the hall, Hera noticed her friend standing in front of the door, holding it shut with all her might, everything locked and bolted. "What's going on?"
Anna turned her head of dark curls, eyes filled with fear.
"He's here," the princess whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Who?"
"Count Dracula."
"What?"
"It's true!" Anna insisted. "I opened the door and he was just standing there…"
"Did he say anything?"
"He just said 'hello Anna,' and I slammed the door in his face."
Hera tried to suppress her laugh.
"Anna, calm down. He can't get inside the house. You have to invite him in, remember? You didn't invite him in, did you?"
"Of course not!" the princess exclaimed, offended by the suggestion.
"Then why are you still trying to hold the door shut? What – are you expecting an unnatural gust of wind to blow open the door so he can come waltzing in?"
As if on cue, the entrance suddenly flew open and Anna went flying, her body colliding with Hera's as both women fell to the ground in a heap. Hera groaned as Anna rolled off of her and both women sat up, eyes on the entryway, only there was… nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The doorway was completely empty.
Not even footprints existed in the snow.
Just the night.
Hera began to sit up more, her eyes transfixed on the white night fantasy of snow and black trees, the sky up above, clear and brilliant. The candles and lights that had offered a comforting glow to the main foyer then blew out as an eerie white mist began to billow out in the courtyard, soon pouring in across the floor from the open door, extinguishing all the lights in the foyer.
The temperature in the room dropped dramatically to the point where both women could see their breath in the air. Hera and Anna glanced at one another with unsure expressions before standing as the mist encircled them both, yet touching neither, as if they were protected by something.
Hera, intrigued by this odd phenomenon, stared out towards the black night outside, eyes narrowing slightly when she sensed the presence of another, as though someone were watching her from the shadows, quietly beckoning. She could feel the darkness calling to her, something unseen lightly scratching in the back of her mind, urging her to let it – whatever it was – in.
She took a step forward, determined to investigate this force further, but Anna grabbed her hand before she could step into the mist.
"Hera, no!" she called, holding to her arm in order to keep her from moving.
The instant Anna pulled the woman back, the presence vanished and the mist abruptly retreated from the room. When it was gone, the lights relit themselves and the temperature miraculously returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
But the door remained wide open and the two stood there in silence for a full minute before Hera, in an effort to dispel the tension, exhaled loudly.
"Perhaps he left?"
"How can you be sure?"
"He's not making an appearance, and everything is normal again."
"I don't know…" Anna began, but before she could even begin to protest, Hera had slipped out of her grasp and was moving for the door.
The princess reached out her hand and began to move toward the woman.
"Hera, what are you doing?! Get back here!"
Hera just smiled as she stopped at the threshold.
"I am going to prove to you that there's nothing to be scared of. In fact, I think you seeing Dracula was just a figment of your imagination."
Anna recoiled her hand as she nervously watched Hera step out into the night, her boots making a deep imprint in the freshly fallen snow just outside the door.
"Hera, I don't like this…"
But the woman would not be deterred as she continued to venture out into the snow. Hera shivered from the chill of the night, dressed in her dark riding pants, a thin blouse with the loose-fitting sleeves pushed up to her elbows, and a dark burgundy underbust corset with riding boots – and that was all. She had no weapons, no means of defending herself if in fact she needed to, and the cold seemed to devour her whole.
Anna remained just inside, shivering slightly as she watched Hera venture out a bit more, staring up at the house and then toward the sky.
"Hey! Dracula!" Hera shouted into the night. "Bat boy!"
Anna covered her mouth in shock.
"Hera, don't! He'll hear you! Come back inside!"
"Dracula! Where the hell are you?!" Hera continued. "What's the matter? You too scared to come out? Did Anna hurt you when she slammed the door in your face?! Aww! Poor baby! Go run home to your brides. They'll kiss it all better!"
Anna laughed quietly. Although Hera's actions were extremely foolish, that didn't mean it wasn't entertaining to witness.
"Hera… come back inside. It's freezing," Anna called warily.
Hera merely laughed as she spun around in circles in the snow, her eyes searching everywhere for the Count who she assumed wasn't even there anymore.
"Vladislaus!" she sang. "Come out, come out, wherever you are... you Turk-loving prick..."
Nothing.
Deciding to give up, Hera shrugged and looked back at Anna to find her suppressing a chuckle.
"I guess you scared him," Hera announced, digging her hands into the pockets of her pants to keep her fingers from freezing. Anna sighed, regaining her composure.
"I suppose so…" she replied resolutely. "Come back inside, you'll catch your death out there!"
Hera was about to comply when a black blur of something came out of nowhere and pushed down hard on the back of her head, forcefully sending her face first into the ground. Hera could hear Anna screaming her name and she peered upwards, discovering a dark figure looming over her, the wet cold slowly sinking into her blouse and chilling her flesh.
She knew that figure… and those eyes.
"Hello, bastard," Hera answered behind the gritted teeth of a forced smile.
Dracula regarded the woman in the snow with an expression of dark amusement.
"Watch how you address me, Miss Garret. I have a low tolerance for those who disrespect me unprovoked. Cross me again and there will be consequences."
"Is that a kinky threat or just a regular threat?"
Before he could answer her baited query, they both turned to see Anna running outside, unsheathing her sword in the process.
"Let her go, you monster!" Anna yelled.
Dracula never moved.
He only considered the woman with severe apathy, remaining utterly composed and disinterested, even when the tip of Anna's sword tore through his clothes and into the taut, pale flesh of his chest, making the gory voyage straight through his body until it came out on the other side, covered in his dark blood.
Hera stared in amazement as the blood retraced itself off the blade of the sword and into his body with the weapon still intact.
Anna, on the other hand, viewed the spectacle with unadulterated shock as she released the hilt and backed up a few steps as Dracula continued to stand there, observing the sword in his chest with a diverted grin. He removed the weapon with relative ease and, for the sheer pleasure of watching Anna squirm, he licked the blood off the cold steel before examining the craftsmanship with muted interest.
"Are you quite finished, princess?" he asked.
"That… that sword is silver-plated… blessed by the pope himself! You… you should be…" Anna stammered, but she couldn't even get the words out.
"What? Dead?" he mused. "Princess, I had expected more from you. Your brother is rather dense to be sure, but you?" and he tsked mockingly while balancing the blade on one finger, evidently approving of the balance between the steel and the hilt. "You know, in my day, women didn't yield swords." He glanced back up at Anna. "Especially delicate little princesses. They could get hurt!"
With lightning reflexes, he stretched forth his hand, the power of his will sending Anna flying back towards the house, her sword slicing through the air after her, heading straight for her heart. Hera screamed and grabbed hold of the Count's extended arm, knocking him off his concentration slightly, so the sword swerved to the right and hit the house mere inches from Anna's head.
The gypsy princess sighed in relief and slid down to the ground, her gaze transfixed on her own weapon that nearly killed her. Meanwhile, Dracula had snatched Hera's wrist, forcing her to look at him.
"As for you, Miss Garret, you and I need to have a little talk," he added matter-of-factly.
"And what do you call what we're doing now, smart ass?" she snapped, her face still stinging from his slap. His grin was devilment itself as he pulled her sharply to her feet before wrapping an arm around her waist so their bodies collided, his face inches from hers.
"I meant in private," he cooed.
Before she could abuse him with more sarcasm, he had shifted into his hell-beast form, lifting her up into his arms, taking off into the night with Anna calling after them. Hera squirmed in his grasp, not at all liking the idea of being alone with this man again, and at night, no less!
"Let me go!" she demanded, trying to push herself out of his grip, but he only held tighter.
"Do you wish to fall to your death?"
She glared into his demonically marred face, surprised that despite his altered appearance, his eyes were still the same. Hera should have been terrified – and perhaps there was a small, more reasonable part of her that was. But she was too angry with him to indulge in fear, so she continued to beat him with her ineffectual fists, furious that he had the nerve to not only strike her, but kidnap her.
"It's better than being in your arms!" she shot. He smirked wickedly.
"So be it," and he threw her up into the air and watched as gravity took hold of her and she began to plummet to the earth.
Hera was too afraid to scream, the ground growing closer and closer at an alarming rate. Just before she could collide with the village down below, she felt something grab her by the ankle and yank her up into the sky again, the freezing air wrapping around her body as she rocketed high above the clouds. She only remained airborne for a matter of seconds, just enough time for her to take in the wonder of the night, the embroidery of the stars in a tapestry of black and blue, the call of the wind like a nocturnal concerto – what lay beneath her: the sea of endless clouds.
Oh, if only she could stay up here forever, if she were permitted to get lost in her love of the stars, but gravity was a cruel mistress and it pulled once more as she fell through the clouds and towards forest down below.
As she made her rapid descent, Dracula was nowhere in sight and for the briefest of moments, she was certain he had left her to die, but before she could hit the forest below, a pair of strong, clawed hands grabbed her by her forearms, swinging her slightly so her arms wouldn't dislocate from her shoulders.
Although the spectacle below her was beautiful, the cold stole her breath, the dampness of her clothes only making it worse.
"Where are you taking me?" Hera finally managed to shout up at the vampire. He flashed her a wry grin, motioning for her to look ahead. What she found was Castle Frankenstein, dark and abandoned, covered in snow. Hera rolled her eyes. "Great. You really meant it when you said 'somewhere private.'"
Dracula said nothing as he flew down towards the courtyard of the castle, dropping Hera carelessly to the snow covered doorstep before landing effortlessly himself as she struggled to stand. Before she could even catch her breath or send him a snide remark about how he could have killed her, he had her by the wrist and was pulling her into the castle, the doors shutting behind them with the very power of his will.
"Hey, Dracula? I can walk without you dragging me like I'm some kind of belligerent child."
He ignored her comment and instead led her up the stairs, his stride and pace almost too fast for her to keep up with. By the time they got to the second story in the west wing, Hera, though a bit winded, had an idea of where they were heading and she started to struggle against him.
"Oh, hell no!" she exclaimed. "I'm not going to be alone in that room with you again… no fucking way!" and she dug her heels into the floor, trying to pull against him, but they only drew closer to the library.
"You don't have much of a choice, Miss Garret," he explained, unfazed by her defiance. "Don't worry. I won't bite you…"
She sent him a dark look.
"That's not what I'm worried about."
Dracula opened the entrance to the library with a rough shove of his free hand before throwing Hera into the room, slamming the oak doors shut behind him.
Hera rolled over onto her back so she could look up at him.
She didn't care for the look in his eyes.
It was dark and wolfish.
"God, do you have to be so damn aggressive?" she retorted, rubbing the wrist he had bestowed his death-grip upon and she forced herself to her feet. "What do you want?"
Dracula lifted his gloved hand and unclipped his cloak and she watched as he removed it, laying it over the back of a chair before taking a step toward her. There was something unholy in those eyes of his, the expression sending chills down her spine. He removed his leather gloves next and tossed them aside with his cloak, then proceeding to unbutton his jacket and Hera's eyes got wide as she backed away from him, hands held up in futile defense.
"What are going to do? Rape me?"
He stopped mid-step, laughing at the suggestion, opening his jacket simply for ventilation.
"Rape you?" he mused. "Don't flatter yourself, human. If I wanted sex, I wouldn't need you for that. I have far more agreeable and experienced women at my disposal who are more than willing to fill that position. Why would I desire some impertinent mortal with little training and no imagination?"
Hera, although internally relieved, sent him a nasty glare. There were some unsavory insults in his response and her temper immediately flared in retaliation. How dare he treat her like this!
"Why you son of a…" she began, her wounded pride making her stupid as she marched toward him, hand raised to slap his face, but he seized her wrist mid-flight and held it tight, pulling her close, their faces inches apart.
"But if you want to play that game, I'd be more than happy to oblige," he purred. "Heaven knows what a… pretty little thing you are. You're hardly touched. So many things to explore…" and he looked her up and down with an erotic gleam in his eye.
Hera was glaring daggers.
"You are the last man on earth I would ever sleep with, willingly or not!"
He swung her around, her wrist still in his grasp as he forced her to move in whatever direction he pleased.
"Are you sure?" he cooed. "Because last time…"
"Last time?" she exclaimed, forcing out a laugh. "Last time you got in my head and manipulated me!"
He chuckled, releasing her wrist but pushing her against the back of the sofa first.
"You enjoyed it."
"No, I didn't," she insisted, but he saw right through her as he continued to advance, amused that she was now backing away into the library itself, a labyrinth of shelf after shelf of books. "I was a prisoner of your stupid mind game."
Dracula suddenly vanished before her eyes, but she could still feel his presence in the room.
"Seduction has nothing to do with me controlling your mind, if that's what you're insinuating," came his voice from behind. She spun around to see nothing but books and darkness. "However, it has everything to do with what you desire, what your body already longs for. If you truly didn't want it, it would have been easier to resist."
Hera spun around but still he was nowhere to be found. She knew he was still in the room – she could feel him, his presence heavy, though not entirely in an unpleasant way as it left her resolve weak and body aching.
She started backing further and further into the maze of bookshelves, the moon her only source of light as she made her way down another aisle, trying to escape Dracula's voice. It was like he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
"You crave it now, Miss Garret. I can smell it on you."
"Your sense of smell must be off then, Count, because one has to wonder – why on earth would I want a dead guy when I could have a gypsy prince with a beating heart?" she challenged.
She heard Dracula's growl of disdain when she mentioned Velkan – but was it disdain? Or jealousy? Either way, his reaction told her that she could use this to her advantage.
"I thought you said you didn't love the gypsy prince?" came his voice from above.
Hera looked up to see him standing on the second floor above her, but he disappeared from her sight within seconds.
"You don't have to love someone to have sex with them, Dracula – you of all people should know that," she replied with noted snark. "Even though my feelings are none of your concern, I said I didn't know if I loved him. I'm still in the process of making up my mind."
"Oh?" came the Count's voice from behind and before she could turn around, she had backed into him. "So your heart is not as easily swayed as I initially believed. That's encouraging," he mused, watching as she bolted down the aisle and into another one, trying to escape him, but she only found him at the end of the row she had chosen, mindlessly thumbing through a random book.
"How is that encouraging? I'm more likely to claim loyalty to Velkan before I ever claim loyalty to you," she muttered under her breath, ready to run again, but he appeared before her once more, advancing, forcing her to back away.
"So what are your feelings for Prince Velkan, as of right now?" he asked rather bluntly as he continued to move forward.
"Like I said, I haven't decided," she panted, a bit out of breath from trying to outrun this vampire. "What are my feelings to you anyway? It's not like you care..."
"Oh, on the contrary, Miss Garret," he purred, evidently pleased when he had cornered her, relishing in how her heart raced as he grew ever closer. "Any favor you may have for the Valerious family is very important to me. But it's not merely your allegiances I wish to understand, but you, Miss Garret. You intrigue me. Your spirit, your intelligence, the sparkle in your eyes. You do not fear me and I can't help but want to understand why. Everyone else does. What makes you the exception, I wonder?"
He was close… too close.
Their bodies were barely a few inches apart and it would be any moment now before he'd cross that line and make their proximity intimate.
"I already answered that question. I have no reason to fear you," she said, unable to pry her eyes away from his. Her heart was racing in her chest, though it most certainly was not in fear and he noticed that immediately.
The Count towered over her, his appearance dark and foreboding, but the sexual tension he created with just his presence drove her mad. His hands were on either side of her, blocking her escape routes and she watched helplessly as he leaned in closer.
This is a familiar position, her mind mused.
"Are you so sure of that?" he whispered, eyes glowing that unearthly blue, the color of his irises a hypnotic swirl of blue and silver, wrapping her mind in a sheet of mild euphoria.
"Yes."
She was fully aware of how close they were and perhaps even conscious of the power he now held over her, but her cravings, those primitive urges that he incited in her were awake and violently demanding liberty as reason started to get pushed to the back of her mind. The tip of his nose brushed against hers very softly, the cool of his breath fanning her face while the addicting heat that escaped her own mouth gently caressed against his.
God, he had only been this close to her once before, and he just realized how much he had missed her warmth. The life teeming within her was beautiful and in the back of his mind, he wondered what it would feel like to thaw against the heat of her body.
"What if I threatened to take you?" he breathed. "Right here against this shelf, with nothing but these dusty tomes as our witness? I suspect that you'd fight me for all of five seconds before surrendering."
"That's if you can even get it up," Hera shot back without missing a beat. "You have no heartbeat, Count. Blood circulation should be physically impossible for you."
"You could always drop that mask of disinterest you insist on wearing and find out the truth for yourself."
"Says the man who not five minutes ago said he'd rather have sex with a host of other women rather than with some… how did you describe me? An impertinent mortal with little training and no imagination?"
"Are you offering to prove me wrong?"
"What, and grant validity to your sexual harassment? I think not."
Dracula laughed in genuine amusement.
"So much bravery and fire in the face of danger. I'm beginning to wonder if you truly comprehend the precariousness of your situation, Miss Garret. If you did, perhaps you would not be so audacious in my presence."
"I may not be able to outmatch you in terms of physical strength, but I am not completely defenseless."
"Is that so?" he mused darkly. "You have no weapons, no means of escape, and no hope of being rescued. Forgive me for contradicting you, spitfire, but you seem rather helpless from where I'm standing."
"Perhaps, but you've overlooked one key thing, Dracula."
"And what might that be?"
"I have something you want. I may not understand what that is at present, but if I was as at risk as you suggest, then you would have disposed of me ages ago."
The vampire smirked, brow arched somewhat as he considered her.
"Are you so certain that I could have some use for you, Miss Garret? For all you know, my face could be the last one you see. The very breath you take in this moment could be your last, and you'd never know until it was too late."
His irises began to glow as he held her gaze, matching her defiant will. She fought him with every fiber in her being, but the close proximity in which they stood was causing her treacherous flesh to heat up. She felt flushed and achy as an onslaught of memories of what his kisses were like suddenly attacked her mind.
He was toying with her again.
The air between them – what little of it there was – was rife with a fusion of sexual tension and an underlying degree of very real danger. Hera understood that although the Count's words and proximity to her person were designed specifically to seduce and manipulate, she could not ignore the frosty bite in his tone, the subtle suggestion of menace lingering on the fringes of his words.
Oh, how she loathed this man, but that loathing was one gentle nudge away from a bewilderingly intense passion and she knew it.
And so did he.
There was something animalistic between them, a primitive kind of attraction that neither Hera nor the Count could fully articulate or understand, but it was palpable in the air as they stared hard at one another in a silent battle of wills.
"I'm not afraid of you, Count Dracula. Do your worst," Hera dared him.
She was convinced when he didn't react right away that he would back down, that he wouldn't acknowledge the tension now pulsating between them.
But then he was holding her face with both hands and his mouth was on hers, and Hera could suddenly feel the earth spinning beneath her feet.
The young woman could barely suppress the moan building in her throat when she became aware of his hands on her body, his selfish tongue prying apart her lips so he could explore every crevice of her mouth. Dracula pushed her roughly against the bookshelf at her back before pressing his body against hers, heightening both of their delight. His fingers wrapped around the side of her blouse and with a sharp tug, he pulled it to one side so he could free her shoulder, unintentionally revealing the tops of her full bosom.
The vampire had momentarily lost himself.
His onslaught was intense, aggressive, and Hera – as he had predicted – surrendered to passion with extraordinary ease, melting most willingly into his strong and capable arms.
She loved how powerful he was, how desperate he acted, how firm his body felt against hers. But in the back of her fevered brain, her subconscious began to wonder – there had to be a more logical explanation for this behavior, some deeper reason. But what? Was he doing this to manipulate her, to control her?
Her mind was given no time and no room for thought as she felt his dull teeth sink into her shoulder and she whimpered as he gently bit the flesh before running his mouth along the side of her neck, never drawing blood, but nibbling just hard enough so she'd moan for him.
The scent of her arousal had hijacked his brain. It was like being high – his head light and spiraling out of control and the only thing that seemed steady in all the world was this infuriating woman and the taste and feel of her tongue dueling with his.
Dracula paused for only a moment to let her catch her breath. She noted the look of wolfish desire in his eyes and though it was incredible, it frightened her. He growled deep within his chest before kissing her again, steering her out of the maze of the shelves and into the lounging area of the library. She had to hold onto him to stay upright, his lips and tongue making her tremble with a mind-numbing pleasure she had never felt in all her twenty-five years of life.
Hera's brain hummed as the only sounds that reached her ears were their mouths colliding and the soft, indistinguishable noises in his throat whenever she kissed him back or when her fingers - as he had restrained her wrists with one of his hands, pinning them between their bodies - briefly grazed against his front. She felt her butt hit the side arm of one of the sofas and she leaned back, trying to pull away from him so she could properly breathe, but he only pulled her closer, his mouth playing over the angle of her chin, dragging that tongue of his along the skin of her throat.
The way he breathed her given name made her dizzy and wet, and when his starving mouth found hers once again, she could feel that nagging voice of reason clawing its way through her screaming hormones.
Why was he doing this?
This was so out of character for him, to act with such carnal desperation, to allow a mere mortal like herself to distract him, to permit the defiance she had bestowed on him.
Why the sudden change? Or was this just how he truly was the whole time and she hadn't known?
Either way, if they kept kissing like this, she was certain she'd make a mistake she would later regret, so she started to pull away from him again, gradually this time. When his mouth reached for hers, she placed her hand on his chest in a futile effort to put distance between them.
"Count?" she breathed, her voice slightly higher pitched than anticipated.
"Yes?" he panted, worshiping the corners of her mouth as one hand smoothed along her back and the other shifted through her hair.
"Did you miss me or something?" she teased.
That got him to stop and he rolled his eyes in reply.
"Don't flatter yourself. You moved first."
She laughed, placing both hands on his chest to push him away so she wouldn't fall back and over the arm of the sofa.
"Yeah right, don't go trying to pin this one on me, Dracula. You're the one who grabbed my face and kissed me!"
"You said to do my worst," he insisted, straightening his disheveled clothes. "And believe me, that wasn't it."
"Oh I don't doubt it, although seriously, I think you may have bruised me," and though she said the words in the jest, the way he was studying her neck and shoulder made her curious.
He looked concerned.
Unbeknownst to Hera, the Count's mind was a whirlwind of confusion as his brain came to grips with the consequences of his brief moment of carnal insanity.
What had come over him?
He lusted after her, to be sure, but to the point of this level of aggression, and when they had barely known each other? The mention of Velkan coupled with her defiant commentary and foolish challenge must have set him off. For the briefest of moments, Dracula wondered if a part of him – albeit a small part – was jealous of the very real chance that this woman would allow herself to be claimed by someone as undeserving as Velkan Valerious.
But the entire thing from beginning to end was so out of character for him. He had it in him to be passionate, certainly, but never to this extent, and rarely with a stranger or friend of the enemy. Even when in the throes of lust, he was usually still dignified and in control.
But this – and he stared at the flushed markings he had left on her neck and shoulder.
Dear God, who was this woman and what was she bringing out in him, he wondered to himself.
"Count? Are you all right?" she asked carefully.
The sound of her voice pulled him out of his thoughts and he straightened himself, nodding a bit curtly.
"Of course," he said impassively. "Excuse me, Miss Garret. I had no intention of…" But he stopped when he noticed the slight grin she was wearing and he looked at her archly. "What?"
"So it's Miss Garret, again, is it?" the woman said, a teasing lilt in her voice as she sauntered past him. "Just a moment ago it was Hera," and she said her name in a low, sensuous tone.
She was mocking him.
He sent her a hard glare and she held her hands up in defense before he could reprimand her.
"Sorry – I couldn't resist. I just don't see the need for the formality, that's all."
"A habit of mine, I suppose. I normally don't address individuals by their Christian name until a proper acquaintanceship has been formed."
"What? Threatening my life and then ravishing me senseless twice doesn't count?" Hera mused. "Why don't we start over," she offered with a little more sympathy. Hera then curtsied low and a little dramatically towards him. "My name is Hera Garret. And you are?"
Dracula smirked in response to her display before snapping his boots together so his feet were side-by-side. With a sense of regality, he bowed in her direction.
"Count Vladislaus Drăculea," he said in turn.
"A pleasure to finally make your proper acquaintance, Count," she replied, laughter in her eyes. "And if you would be so kind, the next time you decide to lose your sanity on me, be so good as to warn me in advance," and she touched the tender marks he had left on her shoulder and the side of her neck, wincing slightly. "Good Lord, man, if it's a submissive you want, you're going to have to look elsewhere. I've got nothing against kink, but my threshold for pain is rather limited."
Hera noticed a mirror hanging on a nearby wall and she walked over to it to better assess the damage. She never did see Dracula come up behind her, as she momentarily forgot he had no reflection, and he carefully rested his hand on her shoulder before encouraging her to turn to face him.
"Allow me," he said cordially, extending his hand to touch her skin with his finger tips and with a brush of his flesh against hers and some concentration on his part, she was healed.
Dracula noted an expression of genuine gratitude in her gaze and though the glance was full of tenderness, it made him slightly uncomfortable in his boots as that silence between them loitered for a few moments.
But Hera, being who she was, was merciful enough to break it for him.
"So – I do believe you wished to speak to me," she said, bringing them back to the point of his kidnapping her. "Obviously something that you could not say in front of Anna."
"Not so much couldn't as I would prefer not to…"
"Semantics, Dracula. Please be so kind as to get to the point," she interrupted, going to move around him so she wouldn't be pinned between him and the wall. He grabbed her arm, although with less force than before, his grip still halting her progress and their eyes locked.
"I have a proposition for you," he began.
"What kind of proposition?"
"An arrangement of sorts, and should you agree to my terms, I give you my word that the village of Visceria and its current inhabitants will be left untouched and unharmed by myself and my brides."
"I'm listening."
So for my veteran readers - this was another chapter where the smut was toned down dramatically. Not sure how many of you even remember the contents of the original, but if there is anyone out there that does, I'd be curious to hear your thoughts on the changes.
To be honest, I almost cut out the kiss entirely, but chose to keep it in in an effort to highlight the literally unexplainable pull and connection that exists between Hera and Dracula at present. When these two are left alone in a room together, something happens that neither can fully account for - all they know is that those moments of madness feel right and it's bewildering and even a little frightening to each of the parties involved. I try to explore this connection in later chapters, but if you have any thoughts or insights on the subject of their relationship right now, I'd love to hear them! It let's me know if I'm on the right track and proves to be a good gauge as to whether or not I'm doing my job well.
I am truly grateful to all of you for your continued support in the reading, favoriting (pretty sure that's not a word, but oh well), following, and reviewing of this story. I apologize if I sound like a broken record, but I am truly humbled by your wonderful response to this story.
I can't wait to hear your assessments and overall reactions to the latest installment! Will hopefully have chapter 12 ready for you by either Friday or Monday.
Thank you for stopping by and I'll see you in the next chapter!
- T