Willie walked down the hallway lined on one side by open arches. The last orange-red rays of the dying sun painted the pale sandstone walls an eerie shade of vermilion. She pondered if this is what it would be like strolling through hell. However, here she had found another piece of heaven on earth being with her family again.
She balanced the tray of food on her flat palm, humming merrily on her way to Noah's room. He had slept all day, recovering from the exhausting night of his first transformation. From years of past experience tending to many newly initiated werewolves, she knew he would be ravenous upon awakening.
Pushing down the metal latch with her thumb, she nudged the thick oak door open with toes of her bare foot. She adored the freedom that came with living the gypsy life. There were no corsets to bind her, no societal rules to remember, and no priests to hold her prisoner. Her lips curled into a malevolent little grin. The priest had become the prisoner here.
Willie rolled her eyes and emitted a deep growl sounding like her werewolf comrades. Father Anderson would be waking up soon from the sleeping elixir she had administered to him. She had mixed in a poison as well to keep him unconscious longer. His body would regenerate, healing the damage to his organs. He would require sustenance and water, lots of water, to rid his body of the poison.
But Noah needed her attention first. Her deep exhalation of relief mingled with her humming made the sound loud enough to disturb the sleeping man sprawled out on the bed. Shaking her head like an amused mother, she walked past the grunting man rooting around to find a more comfortable position after being awakened. She set the tray down on the table in front of the window. Continuing her long-suffering mother routine, she opened the windows to allow in the last shards of daylight to illuminate the room in a orange-red glow.
"Ugh, no!" Noah moaned, snatching the pillow from under his head to cover it instead.
"Good evening, sleepyhead," she chirped much more happily than she actually felt. A lingering sadness and raw emotions remained from Alucard's malicious words. "Now that you've slept the day away it's time to get up and get ready to howl at the moon again!"
"I don't want to," he whined like a grumpy child, his voice muffled by his pillow shield.
"Come on. You need to eat and drink," she said, pouring him a cup full of water.
Noah groaned, rolling over onto his opposite side to find a cool spot on the bed in an effort to get comfortable and go back to sleep. The sheet slipped from where it draped over his middle down to his thighs.
Willie turned on her heel to bring the water to him. She knew he must suffering a terrible headache due to dehydration on par with a massive hangover.
"Noah, you must - Oh, my!" she gasped upon seeing his bared backside.
The muscles across his back contracted with the smallest movements while he adjusted himself in search of that perfect position. Hard knots formed under his skin tanned a rich golden color from his days spent in the sun laboring to his part to help out the clan. In contrast, the dual rounds of his behind remained white as the delicate white petals of a lily.
She giggled at the sight despite the disconcerting warmth radiating from deep within her. Before any salacious thoughts could form in her vivid imagination, she scurried to the bed to pull the sheet up to his chest. Pretending to tuck him back in would save them both from unnecessary humiliation while preventing any awkwardness. They had already weathered a long period of discomfort in each other's presence, and she really did not want to go through another.
"Five more minutes then," she said, sitting down on the bed behind him with her back against the headboard. She held the cup clasped between both of her hands in her lap.
Closing her eyes for a few minutes might help her shake off a little of her fatigue as well. She had kept herself busy, staying in constant motion, to keep her mind off of the painful interaction that had taken place between her and Alucard. She tried to convince herself he still loved her despite those few vindictive words. After all these years, common sense would not allow her to deceive herself so easily. Finally, she was beginning to see him how others saw him.
Father Anderson had asked her many times how she could love a man like Vlad. The question had been terribly offensive. In the past, when he was young, she viewed his question as being spoken out of ignorance. He was a naive priest who knew nothing about love in general or her and Vlad specifically. However, after a century or two, he certainly knew enough to ask that question. Gannon had saved her from that destructive kind of love once, then he was gone and she allowed it back in. Was it love or obsession? Did it matter? Maybe she should decide to save herself this time.
"Willie?" Noah called to her before she could drift off to sleep.
The bed shifted under her when he rolled over to face her.
"Willie," he called again, poking her in the thigh with a forefinger.
"Hmm?" she groaned, gradually opening her heavy eyelids.
"Were you asleep?"
"No."
Willie looked down at him. His big blue eyes were searching her face. Apparently, her melancholy was written all over it. She saw her sadness mirrored in his luminescent irises. He had an amazing capacity for empathy. Her fingers drifted over his cheek while he continued to stare at her.
"Why are you sad?" he inquired without giving her the chance to deny the emotion.
"Hmmm," she hummed, blinking slowly to break the intense contact of his gaze. His eyes were changing. That usually happened after the morphing. They were brighter than usual as if liquid silver had been mixed into the color."You're eyes are beautiful. You're getting your wolf eyes."
"You're ignoring my question," he rejoined, sitting up next to her.
"It's nothing new. I've been through this before. I'll be all right," she assured him. Remembering the cup in her hand, she held it out to him. "Here. You need this."
"Thank you," he said, emptying the cup of it's contents. "More, please?"
"Of course," she responded, taking the cup from him. She eased off the bed to go to the table and refill it from the pitcher.
"So what did Alucard do to hurt you this time?" His eyes met hers briefly when she gave him the replenished cup. "He found you, didn't he?"
She turned away quickly to face the window. The sun had set. A cool wind heralding in the night blew softly through the window. Her skin raised into goose bumps from the gentle caress of the wind across her bare shoulders. She was wearing a simple light blue cotton dress that skimmed her curves and tied behind her neck.
"I like that dress. I've never seen it before."
"Feya made it for me." She welcomed the banal question to avoid speaking anymore about Alucard. The only person she hated discussing Alucard with more than Noah was Father Anderson.
"I have one more question to ask about Alucard," he warned her.
"All right," she exhaled heavily. "Go ahead. Ask it."
"Is your family, including the whole clan, in any danger from him?" He stood next to her, filling his own cup this time.
"No. Not from him. Father Anderson poses more of a danger to them than Alucard," she replied pointedly.
"That is why he's locked in the dungeon. Correct?"
"Yes."
"What do we do with him now?"
"I don't know," Willie sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs positioned at the table. "I suppose I should return to England with him. I can keep him busy chasing after Alucard. I should be the one to help take care of that problem anyway."
Noah sat in the chair across from her, holding the sheet around his body to keep himself covered. He pulled the tray loaded with food over to him, grabbing the whole chicken with both hands. Taking large mouthfuls, barely chewing, he ripped into the roasted meat like the feral animal he harbored within. When he realized she was staring at him, gape mouthed in astonishment, he carefully put down the chicken he had reduced to a bony carcass. He gingerly wiped hands on the sheet as if it were an oversized napkin.
"I'm glad I brought a lot. Eat up," she encouraged him, giving him a smile. "Let me ask you a question...you've decided to stay here then? To stay with the pack?"
"Mm-hmm," he grunted around a mouthful of shredded roast venison. "I have. Why would I leave when I've finally found where I belong?" He paused for a moment, watching her while she visibly fought some internal war he could not comprehend. "You want to stay. So why not stay? With your family. And with me?"
"Gannon - "
"Willie, don't call me that."
"I'm sorry," she apologized, staring at her hands twisting nervously in her lap while shame colored her face a deep shade of crimson. "You just remind me so much of him."
"Does it hurt? Look at me, Willie, I need to know," he stated forcefully, immediately drawing the attention from her he had commanded. "Does it hurt when you look at me? Does it hurt to be near me when I'm a constant reminder of him? Is that why you refuse to love me? Is that why you won't stay here?"
"Yes," she replied, her voice a mere whisper. Her eyes moved back and forth to avoid direct contact with his.
"Yes, to which question?"
"Yes, it hurts. Yes, you are a constant reminder of him. And yes, that is why I refuse to love you. I can't - " She paused, inhaling deeply to steady her voice warbling with emotion. "Every moment with you is sheer torture because I want to love you. But, I want to love you as him, as Gannon Lupei not Noah Landon. I don't want to do that. It's not fair to you."
Noah's face hardened, his features turning into sharp ridges and angles of anger and hurt. The tiny muscles at the corners of his jaw worked spasmodically under the skin stretched tightly over his strained features.
"If I'm the reason you won't stay with your family, then I should be the one to go. I'll return with Father Anderson. You should stay here," he said, poking at the food. His appetite had quickly fled after hearing her confession. Although he already knew the truth of everything she had said, hearing the words aloud made it impossible to ignore it any longer.
"No, Noah." She reached across the table to grasp his hand. When his silvery blue eyes met hers they were full of rage induced by his aching heart. She immediately withdrew her hands from his. "You should stay here. You belong here. I'm not a werewolf."
"But you're a gypsy. You were their Queen and now you're the mother of the King. Your family is here. You belong here more than I do," he argued keeping his voice low but not preventing it from shaking from his barely contained emotions.
"Noah, I'll go. I'll be the one to escort Father Anderson back to England. I need to be there to help him deal with Alucard." She stood up from her chair to go to him. Despite his lethal glare, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head to her chest to embrace him. "I love you, Noah. I'm so sorry things can't be different. I have to go. You should stay. You need them."
"I need you," he mumbled, turning his head to bury his face between her barely covered breasts.
"You don't need me," she murmured, running her fingers through his super short, silky soft hair.
"I want you," he admitted, placing his hands on her hips.
"We shouldn't do this, Noah." She placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing him away gently. Leaning down, she placed a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. "Find someone and love her with all of your heart. I will be selfish by asking this one thing: never forget me."
He stroked her cheek before pulling her down to kiss the soft skin there. "I couldn't, even if I tried."
~\..'../~
An angry roar like that of a ferocious, mythical dragon erupted from the dungeon. Deep inside the bowels of the castle. the priest raged loudly upon awakening. Rising to his knees, unable to stand, he pulled at the heavy chains tethering him to the wall behind him. The massive iron shackles cut into his wrists each time he jerked at his restraints. He strained to get free, his muscles bulging, thick ropy veins rising to the surface under his skin. He continued to yank uselessly at the massive chains while yelling to vent his fury. Sweat trickled down his face and bare chest, mixing with the dirt covering his body from the hard packed floor of his cell. His fatigued muscles quivered with weakness. He plopped back down on his behind, pressing his back against the cold, damp stones behind him. His chest rose and fell laboriously from his pointless efforts. His panting was the only sound disturbing the quiet, moldy air which was otherwise dank and still.
The last thing Father Anderson remembered was falling asleep at the lupine emerging ceremony. No, he didn't fall asleep. He had passed out. He had been given a sleeping drug. Dammit! His lips slid into a sideways smirk which held the smallest degree of admiration mixed with a large amount resentment for her highness's craftiness and deception. She had learned from the best after all. Vlad Tepes had won wars and spread his empire, conquering kingdoms and innumerable women, using his beguiling, tricky wits.
The only article of clothing covering his body was his pants. His glasses were gone which mattered little since the darkness here bordered on being a black hole sucking in all light and sound. His whole body ached. The pulsing of deep tissue bruises covered his limbs. The distinct crack and flaking sensation of dried blood skipped across the nerve endings in his face and lips. Breathing caused burning agony in his lungs and abdomen. Apparently, despite being drugged and unconscious, he had not come to the dungeon easily or willingly. They had stripped him and beat him, forcing him into submission so he could be put in irons to tether him to the wall. Only one question remained at this time: what did they plan to do with him?
Anderson's throbbing fingers curled into fists. He raised his face to the ceiling looming somewhere above him in the vacant blackness. His mouth opened to release his ire in an animalistic bellow. He was incensed, humiliated, and offended, to say the least, and those damn dogs were going to hear about it. He would howl at them like they howled at the moon.
A light, a small yellow flame, appeared in the immeasurable distance lying in front of him beyond the foreboding iron bars holding him prisoner - as if the shackles were not enough to keep him in place. The tiny fire grew bigger, a ball of flames appearing to float in the air. At last his eyes adjusted to the light blinding him despite its diminutive size. A torch. A torch being carried by none other than Her Highness. This time, she carried a torch for him.
A sly smile tilted his lips again. At least his Countess had the good sense not to underestimate him. Her intelligence to take him seriously impressed him. She really had become a better woman than he expected. If only she could let go of the cad who had become the nefarious Alucard. Vlad Tepes, Count Dracula, Alucard: a monster by any other name is still a monster. If she could get him out of her heart, she could become something better than this. If he could rid her of the memory of Alucard, he might be able to save her at last.
"I know what you're thinking. It will never happen. You can't save me," Willene said, her voice as cold, hard as the stones cutting into his back.
He found her icy tone disturbing considering her voice usually held such warmth and kindness, even for him. She placed the torch in the holder built into the wall outside of his cell. Next she produced a set of medieval looking iron keys from somewhere under the red shawl that slipped from her bare shoulder. She held a tray of food in her other hand which prevented her from pulling the covering back up. The huge door swung open without a sound. No squeaking or squawking of old rusted hinges. The soil and air around him might have existed from the beginning of the time but the dungeon which held him seemed fairly new.
"You've been crying, my dear," he answered, his eyes remaining on her with steadfast interest while she entered the cell with the food. His stomach growled in anticipation when the scent of fresh baked bread, roasted meat, and a soup made of vegetables filled his nostrils.
"So what if I have, Father?" she snapped defensively, setting the tray down on the floor beside him where he sat cross legged.
"How can you love a man who has made you cry so many tears? Who has hurt you so profoundly, time and time again?" His eyes followed her path back to the door which she pulled closed. He did not understand why she would be trapping herself inside the iron cage with him.
"Are we really going to have this conversation again?" she sighed.
She had been crying but not over Alucard this time. She reached through the bars, twisting the key to secure the door before flinging the keys away down the corridor lined by more cells no doubt.
"Why do you care?" she snapped, pulling up the hand knitted wool shawl to cover her bare ivory shoulders while she approached him.
"I've always cared about you, your Highness."
"You have an odd way of showing it."
"And your beloved vampire, doesn't?" he rejoined snidely.
"I'm sure you're hungry. Eat," she ordered him sharply. She flatly refused to address his remark. It had never been his place to judge her on who she loved or how she loved yet he had always openly expressed his opinion about the subject.
Alexander Anderson leaned back on the stone wall behind him in a feigned act of casual submission. Grasping the slack chain in his hand, he held it against his thigh. Waiting. Patiently waiting for her to approach him. When she came within two feet of him, her arms crossed under her breasts and her luminescent green eyes fixed on his face in a hard glare, he swung the weighty chain, throwing it over her head. The sudden, unexpected impact of the heavy iron links pushed her down to her knees. Before she could react, he jerked her forward, dragging her across the dirt floor of his cell. His wrist rotated swing the chain around her head to encircle her neck. He pulled her against him, sitting her in his lap to choke the life out of her. Pushing his chin into her shoulder to gain a little leverage, he tightened the chains around her neck. The pulsating of her carotid artery vibrated through the metal, traveling into his body. His entire body began to tremble from the impulses when her heart beat faster in an attempt to make her react, to fight, to want to breathe.
Instead, she lay in his arms like a limp rag-doll without offering the slightest resistance. Her eyes started to bulge so she closed them. Her mouth opened in a futile attempt to pull in air. She made a desperate, pitiful sucking noise which sounded more like a slow air leak rather then her desire to inhale. Her head lolled to the side, her forehead pressing against his grimy, sweat streaked neck.
"I could kill you. I should kill you," he growled through his clenched teeth. The chain clinked when he shook it trying to elicit a reaction. "Won't you at least fight for your life? Just a little?"
Her fingers clawed at her neck in an effort to grasp the chain. In the process to clutch the iron ligature choking her, she scratched the skin under her chin and on her neck until bloody lines appeared. The wetness of her blood allowed her fingers to slide under the chain, finally getting a grip a on it. She pulled, her legs kicking frantically while she exuded the force required to break the sturdy links. Several links broke with a metallic pop rattling to the floor in pieces. Her body fell forward, until she was on all fours coughing and struggling to catch her breath.
"You love me like he does. By hurting me," she accused in a raspy whisper.
"Hmph," he scoffed not appreciating being compared with Alucard.
Willie sat up into a kneeling position, straightening the shawl about her shoulders. She did not seem to notice the dirt smudging her face and dress or that her hair had loosened from it's tidy braid. She also appeared oblivious to the fact that the man who attacked her had had been freed from the wall, the chains dangling from the shackles on his wrists. Perhaps she did not care. Something weighed on her mind, and it showed on her face by the way her brows furrowed.
"One of your life's goals, one of the the main objectives you live for, is to destroy Alucard. Am I correct?" she asked, taking him by surprise.
Alexander Anderson blinked in the confusion at the woman sitting placidly in front of him. To say that he found her question unexpected would be a gross understatement.
"Besides, salvaging what's left of your soul? Yes, that's my goal. Why do you ask?"
"I will help you accomplish that goal."
"Why?" he inquired, suspicious of her motivation.
Willie sighed, loud and long, closing her eyes briefly as if gathering her thoughts. She placed her hand on her chest over her heart, opening her eyes to meet his.
"This thing you put inside of me, it made me just a little bit more human than I would otherwise be, didn't it?"
"Yes. Helena's nail restored a bit of your soul, your humanity, your mortality. That nail enabled you to bear your children because it restored that important part of you."
"Well, thank you for that, Father Anderson," she rejoined, sincere in her gratitude. "My children mean everything to me. But did you ever stop to consider what it would be like for me to have to watch them die? I had to watch my husband die. It was horrible. I've never hurt so much in my life. Not even from Alucard. I don't think I can bear watching my children die." She moved closer to him, pressing her open palms to his chest. Her eyes filled with tears as they scanned back and forth across his face.
"I never considered how much that would hurt you. I never thought - " His words died away in his throat.
"What you have done to me is far worse than anything Alucard ever has."
Father Anderson smiled at her; a sad smile full of irony and doubt. Seeing her so sad, so tortured, made him sad. He pitied her which had driven him to put Helena's nail in her in the first place. How could he have possibly hurt her worse than Alucard? His doubts stemmed from his decision to try to save her. He ran his fingers through her disheveled hair smoothing it down against her head. His hand clasped the back of her neck, pulling her forward to kiss her forehead.
"Is it? Is what I've done to you really worse?" he questioned her, holding her gaze. "I helped you find joy in what would have been an otherwise bleak and miserable existence full of pain and suffering. You experienced more love and happiness in those moments with Gannon and your children than you ever would have had otherwise. Why do you think I introduced you to Noah? I wanted to give you a chance at happiness again."
"Alexander," she whispered, daring to use his first name. She was drawing on an extremely familiar tie between them which existed a very long time ago. In those dark times of another lifetime when she endured the loss of her children with Vlad, a time when she called him a dear friend, he had allowed her to refer to him by his first name to deepen their bond while assuaging her grief. "Does Helena's nail make it possible to kill me?"
Something close to fear rippled across his facial features but the emotion stopped short before materializing in his eyes for her to read it correctly. The desperation in her eyes warranted a truthful response from him.
"Why yes, I suppose. I could place a mark on you, binding your powers. Then I could end your life with my Blessed Blades. But - " His words ceased when he realized what she had in mind. He took her face between his hands when tears rolled from her eyes and down her cheeks creating muddy trails through the dirt. "My dear lady, you can't mean to ask me to kill you."
She planned to use herself as bait, to lure Alucard into a trap where he could watch her die. Crushed and broken-hearted, he would be easy prey for the priest. She was perhaps the only person Vlad Tepes had ever loved. She hoped she had become the only being the vampire Alucard loved.
"All of your life, you've always wanted to do the right thing, Alexander, but you sometimes go about it in all the wrong ways. I think perhaps I've picked up your bad habits."
"But why?" he breathed, his chest constricting. "Why like this? There has to be a different way."
In a soft voice, tempered with the tranquil resolve of having committed herself to the fate she had chosen, Willie said, "I'm being selfish, Father. I want to die to save myself from anymore pain. I watched my husband die. I held him as the last breath left his body. I've never wanted to die so badly in my life before. And I couldn't."
Father Anderson gulped to swallow back the emotion welling inside of him. His eyes studied her face, watching the creases of tension across her forehead gradually relax until her skin lay smooth and perfect. Fresh tears shone in her eyes, reflecting the muted torchlight before they slid from the corners to glide down the filthy trails already carved through the smudges on her cheeks.
"I can't bear to watch my children die. It's not fair, and it's not right, that I should live on when their lives end. I can't watch Noah die. It would be like experiencing Gannon's death all over again. I want to end this. I need to end this unnatural, grotesque existence of mine. People - " Her voice faltered and she inhaled sharply to rein her emotions back in before she lost control. A smile touched her quivering lips. "You're right, Father. Creatures like me shouldn't exist."
"Countess," he murmured, closing his eyes so as not to look at her any longer. It hurt too much.
"Please don't deny me this request. If you care for me, if you love me at all like you say you do, prove your friendship and kill me. Please..."
For a long moment, Father Anderson sat still, stunned into muteness. At last, he responded weakly, "I will do as you ask."
"Thank you," she whispered, standing up to leave.
"Why are you thanking me? You just asked me to kill you."
At the door, she turned back to look at him. Her body began to dissolve into black smoke from her feet up to enable her to leave the cell. She had carelessly flung the key away earlier for a reason the priest could not imagine. Perhaps she had expected him to kill her at this time and did not want to give him an easy way out of this dungeon. Before her face disappeared, she smiled one of her melancholy grins he knew so well. She had tried to be happy, and for remarkable but brief moments in her long history, she had experienced joy beyond her imagination. Unfortunately, tragedy and misery had been a pervasive force throughout the many centuries. Her immortality haunted her, making sorrow her constant companion. And it all came back to one person: Vlad Dracul III. She planned to end him and end her life, setting things to how they should have been all along.
"I'm thanking you because you were merciful and said yes."