Edward was dragged to the dais. The curtains were open and Dracula lay draped along the cushions. He had the face of an angel, mused Edward as he took in the long lashes, the high curved cheekbones, the red lips. He was naked and the velvet throw contrasted sharply with his pale, vampire skin. Edward tried to avert his eyes, there was something beautiful and deadly in that body, he reminded himself. The Count raised his head and at his gaze Edward forgot all he had been thinking. He felt his body becoming pliant to Dracula's will but his mind fought for control.
'Kneel,' the soft lips whispered and Edward felt himself sinking to his knees. His head was now level with the surface of the bed. All around Dracula was the scent of blood and sex, Edward's control was slipping. He frowned, trying to pull himself together. Dracula chuckled softly as he noticed this effort.
'Relax, 'he murmured, 'I could make you do much worse Edward. Or better.' He added smiling lasciviously. He laughed as the muscles in Edward's neck tightened. One slim hand came forward and gripped Edward's chin painfully. Dracula lay along the bed, his head inches from Edward's and looked into Edward's eyes.
Edward felt the movement inside him, how the vampire inside stretched and purred under Dracula's gaze. His body was hot, impossibly hot and he hardened in desire. His eyes were wide, his brain telling him to look away, break the deadly, seductive gaze. But the creature in him, long subdued and hidden growled its refusal to let go of his body. He felt his humanity slipping away like the tide going out and he flexed his fingers to try to hold on to it, but it was hopeless.
Dracula's smile widened, his sharp teeth stabbing into his full lower lip.
'There's a good boy,' he purred, it sent delicious shivers up Edward's spine, his whole body bending towards Dracula like a bow, taut and humming with lust. Edward knew that if Dracula touched him now, it would be all over. Nothing, not Harry, nor his family, not years of carefully cultivated civilisation would be able to control the beast inside him.
'Edward, I don't want you,' Dracula's voice was low,' but if I asked you to you would beg for me wouldn't you?' Edward nodded grimly, he couldn't do anything else. The shame of this truth burned across his body but it only served to make the longing pain sweeter.
'I've watched you Edward, with your boy.' Dracula continued into hold Edward's gaze. It was worse than being naked; Edward's mind skittered and shied away from the contact of Dracula's power like a frightened horse.
'I've seen the great beast inside you and that's how I have this control over you, Edward. Your vampire self, not that snivelling, guilt ridden human muzzle you make it wear.' His hand reached out and stoked slowly down Edward's face, his neck, his torso. Edward moaned and his body bent itself even further to Dracula's touch, like a cat reaching up to be petted. Dracula smiled again.
'This is how I survived Edward, by being that beast. I am a killer more cunning than you can imagine. Other vampires have their petty feuds but I have been playing this game for longer than you can dream of Edward. Long before the name Vlad Tepes, before countries were formed or alliances made. I became this beast as a human child, Edward, civility and humanity had not yet settled on these shoulders. Watch a child, it is an animal, its cruelty is unsurpassed. One learns to be human Edward, I did not. I am as I was first made, but I have had centuries of honing my skills, sharpening my wits. I have no need for others. They are amusement. You think that other vampires are powerful? The Volturi?' the eyes narrowed and Edward saw the animal crouched before him in that angelic body. 'I would devour the Volturi Edward and lick my fingers clean before they could perform any of their tricks.' Looking into Dracula's eyes Edward could see the simple truth in these statements. These were not boasts of power. Dracula simply was this creature, a creature capable of inspiring greater fear and performing more cruelty than Edward had ever witnessed before.
'If I asked you to, Edward, you would tear that boy wizard limb from limb and join me drinking his blood.' The mention of Harry's blood made Edward's throat burn with thirst. His mind was shutting down; soon he would belong to the Count. His body thrummed and throbbed with desire.
'Edward?' the voice was raised, questioning. Edward couldn't help himself, he had to respond.
'Yes?' he choked back the word 'master', snapping his teeth shut so that the word wouldn't spill over his lips. His voice sounded far off and dry. Dracula smiled at the reluctance in Edward's answer. The longing in Edward's body increased. He didn't know how much more he could take. He felt like a fly dangling in painful ecstasy in Dracula's web. Just bite me, kill me, he thought desperately. He needed release, any sort of release.
'Why do you sparkle in the sunlight like a jewel?' the voice was deceptively soft and loving. Edward felt himself answer before he could stop himself.
'I don't know,' his voice was only a whisper now, the faculty of speech was leaving him. He felt the animal inside him stretch out into its new shape, felt its joy at the freedom it had long craved. Soon it would be completely free and Edward Cullen would be no more. Part of him wanted it more than he could ever have imagined.
Dracula's hand was in Edward's hair, pulling his head back, exposing his throat. The blue eyes held Edward's gaze and the mouth opened, Edward couldn't remember anything more beautiful in his life. It bent towards his throat. As the sharp, hard teeth penetrated the skin, as the thick blood pumped from his open vein, Edward cried out in ecstasy. His body shuddered, Dracula's grip on him exquisite in its pain and pleasure. He felt Dracula possess his body and his mind, the Count swept through his carefully maintained civility as though it were a cobweb. The pleasure did not end; it coursed through him, never dwindling from its high peak, racking his body with ardour and sacrifice. He felt Dracula drinking his blood, each swallow brought more of the sweet pain and he wanted to be drunk dry by the terrible beauty of it all. His body cried out to be the victim of this ancient and powerful beast at his throat.
When the Count pulled away, Edward's body fell weakly to the floor. His limbs felt like the dead man he had believed himself to be. The glorious union he had felt left him and he felt hollow and used.
Dracula stood up and gestured imperiously to the young man who emerged from the shadows of the curtains.
'Do it.' There was utter command in his voice. The young man brought from his long jacket a small box. His trembling fingers lifted the delicate catch and, as the box opened, light poured forth from the open lid. It could only be sunlight, thought Edward weakly looking up at the scene above him. The light played on the gold embroidery of the curtains, on the jewelled coverlet, on the blue eyes of the Count as he looked down at his arm which he stretched out to catch the golden rays. But when the light that fell on Dracula's skin there was no lustre, glitter or shine. It illuminated dully the white flesh, highlighting its deathly pallor. Dracula closed his eyes as though weary. His arm flashed down and his hand caught the cheek of the young man holding the open the box. The youth fell heavily to the ground the box rattling away across the stone floor.
'You said it would work Harker!' the Count's voice sounded like harsh scre