Another Friday, another update (not to mention, another week of this year being over, omg how is it almost September, where did 2021 go, why does it feel like each new year goes by even faster than the last, I'm not panicking, YOU'RE panicking. AHHHHH!)
Anyways.
All the thanks to those who reviewed this week - Scarlet Empress, She-Devil Red, inkmagpie, and MsIndulgence. I'm sorry I haven't properly replied to reviews in a while. Life has just been... oof. I still need that vacation, lol.
ENJOY THE CHAPTER! Vlad & Frankie are going to attempt to clean-slate this nonsense. We'll see how long that lasts ;) PLEASE DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!
CW: violence and some gore
Copyright © 2021 TSM. All rights reserved.
Chapter 6
Pursuit
No words passed between them as they continued to linger in the alley for a few minutes more. There was no need to talk. It was apparent that while Frankie was alive and well in person, her encounter with the Spider had shaken her considerably. Given the conversation Vlad had overheard, it wasn't hard to imagine why.
Rémy was lucky he was all the way on the other side of town, for Dracula wanted nothing more than to throttle the man for putting Francesca in such a precarious situation. Yes, it was true the woman had agreed to the arrangement, but it never should have been an option in the first place.
When Frankie was ready to leave, she began to walk in the direction of the street and the man was quick to fall into step at her side as they made their way back to the metro. The journey was a silent one, and while the brave woman at his side never wept – silently or otherwise – her distress was radiating off of her in waves as she privately processed the traumatic events.
The eleven o'clock train soon arrived at the platform and they boarded. When Frankie refused to sit, opting to stand and hold onto one of the railings above, Dracula followed suit, determined to stay near her, though careful not to crowd her.
Little did he know how grateful she was for his consideration – his silent, steady presence.
After the car had emptied of people a few stops later, leaving them alone between stations, her gaze finally met his and he took her sustained look as permission to speak.
"Are you all right?" was all he could think to say, though he knew the answer before he had even finished asking the question.
To his surprise, she chuckled a little sheepishly.
"No," she answered, looking away from him for a moment when her admission had her eyes prickling a little. "No, I am not."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
Frankie looked back at him, expression filled with a kind of sorrowful tenderness.
"What you're doing right now certainly helps."
His brow furrowed a little.
"And what is it that I'm doing?"
Her lips then curved into a soft smile.
"Caring enough to ask."
Her answer secretly pleased him, and as he began to relax a bit more in her presence, ready to move a little closer to her, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
There were two men in the subway car next to them, an unsavory looking pair, both watching the woman closely. When Dracula went to make eye contact with one of the gentlemen, the latter was quick to divert his gaze.
Vlad looked on suspiciously.
"I don't mean to alarm you, but do you know those two gentlemen in the car next to us?" he asked in a low tone. She went to turn around, but he stopped her. "Don't… don't look directly at them." She did as instructed, sneaking a peak before returning her attention to Vlad, distress in her eyes.
She cursed softly under her breath.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I knew the bastard wouldn't let me off the hook that easy," she whispered. "They work for Aldrick – Basilio must have sent them. You see the tattoos on their necks?"
Dracula sneaked another look to confirm and he nodded.
"There's that tail you warned the others about."
"We can't lead them to Carmen's… we have to lose them."
"Between the two of us, I'm getting the impression by the way that taller one keeps looking at you that he isn't planning on letting you get that far anyway."
Frankie grimaced.
"What are we going to do?"
"Let me handle this…" and Dracula made a move to head toward the other car as the train began to slow, reaching its next stop, but she grabbed him by the front of his shirt before he could maneuver past her, stopping him.
"No," she whispered harshly. "I won't risk open confrontation… not with all these witnesses."
"Then what do you propose we do?" he asked, the little alarms above the doors beeping, announcing that they were about to let more people from the platform onto the car.
As the doors began to slide open, Frankie suddenly grabbed Dracula's hand.
"Run."
She pulled him in the direction of the exit and the two bolted, pushing passed the commuters eager to be on their way. Providence proved on their side, as they were able to weave in and out of the crowd with more ease than the two men in the car next to them that were now struggling to get around the other passengers.
Dracula and Frankie made a mad dash for the stairs.
When they reached the street above, they both looked around frantically for the best course to take, but Vlad proved quicker at making that decision. With her hand still in his, he pulled her into the direction of the busy street and they ran across despite the oncoming traffic, headed to where the crowds were thickest just as their pursuers emerged from the underground.
Frankie looked back briefly as they continued to run, noting that the hired henchmen were close behind and she felt a swell of panic starting to set in.
"They're gaining on us," she shouted.
"We'll lose them over here… come on!" and Dracula pulled at her hand, urging her to move faster as he led her down a congested side-street where street vendors had set up shops in front of a number of other stores. The area was congested, with tall stands drenched in goods and wares, which would provide them with just enough cover to slip into some remote hiding place if their luck held out.
But these minions were proving far more skilled than the average goon as one open-fired in their direction. It missed Frankie's head by mere inches, the bullet finding a home the wood post of a stand instead. The splinters shot out in every direction, one of them lightly scraping her face and breaking the skin. She winced, hissing slightly as she pulled the sliver of wood from her cheek before dropping it to the ground as Dracula pulled her sharply through a small opening of the crowd without warning.
They ran down a less populated alley and dashed through the open door of an antique and used books store. The establishment was quiet and virtually empty save the owner of the place and his fat Siberian cat, which was sprawled out lazily on the counter by the register. The shopkeeper opened his mouth to say something, undoubtedly to tell the pair to slow down so they wouldn't break anything, but Vlad immediately pointed in the man's direction, exerting his more powerful will over the human who looked at them expectantly.
"You saw nothing. Carry on," he commanded and then he pulled Frankie into one of the poorly lit aisles near the back of the store. When they had nowhere further to go, he maneuvered her so she was forced to stand between him and the wall to her back. He then positioned himself close to her person as if he planned to use his body as a shield and then they fell silent.
The couple never uttered a word as they each held their breath, looking in the direction of the front of the store as they tuned their ears to the street outside. For a moment, neither of them could hear anything out of the ordinary hustle and bustle of the evening… until the sound of angry Russian soon reached their ears, followed by heavy footfall, as if someone was running.
"Did you see where they went?" one of the men shouted.
"They went down this way, I'm sure of it."
"Search that store over there – I'll check this one. They couldn't have gotten far."
Frankie instinctually grabbed hold of the front of Dracula's shirt, watching through the small spaces between the shelves as one of their pursuers stepped into the store slowly, eyes scanning the place. Vlad, thinking nothing of it, wrapped his arms around the woman in front of him, holding her close as his eyes remained fixed on the newcomer, secretly memorizing his face.
"Excuse me," the man said to the shopkeeper who was busy putting away some new books on the shelves behind the counter. The owner of the store, an elderly gentleman, turned to look at the stranger.
"Ah, welcome! Everything is forty percent off."
"Don't care," the henchman replied. "Has anyone come in here in the last five minutes?"
"No," the owner replied honestly, Dracula's will having effectively wiped all memory of his and Frankie's entrance from the man's mind. "It's just been me and Toast here for the last half hour," and he motioned to the obese cat by the register. The feline eyed the newcomer, but never moved from its spot.
"You sure? Because if you're lying, old man…"
"Why would I lie about something like that?" he inquired, laughing off the fact that the man in front of him had a gun in his hand. "There's no one here but us. You're welcome to look for yourself if you'd like."
Dracula could feel Frankie tensing in his arms at the sound of that and he looked down at the woman momentarily. There was no trace of fear in her eyes, but she was alert and clearly on edge. He tightened his hold around her body in an effort to soothe them both.
Before the henchman could take the shopkeeper up on his offer to search the place, his comrade soon joined him.
"Anything?" he asked.
"No…" the man said in reply, still eyeing the owner of the store with mild suspicion. "Nothing here."
"Well then let's go… they could have doubled back."
And after a tense moment of silence, at last, the two mercenaries departed.
Frankie and Vlad both sighed in relief at the same time as soon as the men were gone, and she looked up at him to thank him for his protection when she realized he was still staring at the front door of the store, his expression hard and jaw tense. Unable to account for the look in his eyes, she spoke his name in hopes that it would snap him out of whatever stupor he was in.
"Mr. Leinhart? … Vlad?"
The use of his first name is what captured his attention and he finally looked down at her.
"Are you alright?" he asked, though the manner in which he had asked the question made him sound impatient… upset, even.
"Yes, I think so."
He nodded in acknowledgement, but his countenance hadn't softened at all.
"Come… we need to get you back to your brother," he said, releasing her from his hold so they could make their way back outside, but she stopped him, pulling him back.
"Wait… we should talk."
Dracula made a face.
"Now is not the time," he said immediately. "It's not safe." But she persisted.
"Do you hate me?" she asked him outright and his brows furrowed in confusion.
"Pardon?"
"I need to know where you stand. Yesterday, I could have sworn you hated me; but then just minutes ago you were concerned and kind and considerate, and now it's like you're back to being cross and indifferent again." Did she seriously want to talk about this now? "Look, I don't blame you for resenting me for my actions from a few months ago. I'd deserve it, and you were probably just being nice out of obligation just now, but… I hate this uncertainty. I need to know where you stand… where we stand with each other."
Realizing that she had mistaken his previous hard expression toward their pursuers as being directed at her, he managed a slight smile.
"I've never hated you, nor do I resent you," he assured her and she opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she realized what he had said.
"You don't?" she clarified, genuinely surprised.
"I will admit that what you said a few months ago left me wounded and frankly bewildered," he answered truthfully. "But I've had a long time to reflect and I recognized that, for whatever reason, you felt we should not continue on the course we had been on. I may not be privy to the particulars, but I have made the decision to respect your wishes."
"Really?"
"Yes. If you're not ready for more or simply don't want me, I may not particularly care for the situation, but I can accept it."
"It's not that I don't want you," she insisted without even realizing the words had left her mouth.
"Then what is it, Francesca? What do you want?" he inquired patiently.
There it was again.
That tension.
Frankie would never understand what it was about this man that made her feel safe, yet on edge in one fell swoop. She started to fidget a little.
"I don't know," she sighed in defeat, making no attempt to hide how frustrated she felt. "I don't know what I want."
Sympathetic to her plight and choosing to heed Bernardini's advice, Dracula chose to exercise that uncharacteristic patience of his as he leaned against one of the bookshelves, studying her closely, secretly amused by how her eyes were literally on everything else except him.
"Last night you expressed a wish to be friends," he reminded her, the sound of his voice capturing her attention and she looked up at him expectantly. "I know I said that doing so would be impossible, but perhaps I was too hasty in my conclusions. If being friends is what you wish for, then I will of course oblige you."
Surprised by this unexpected development, Frankie eyed him a little suspiciously.
"Why the change of heart?"
"Do you require a reason?"
"No, I suppose not…" It was clear she was unconvinced. "But I don't want you to be friends with me out of obligation; if that truly isn't want you desire, I completely understand…"
"I would not have made the offer had I not wished it."
"Are you sure?"
Dracula smiled despite his mild frustration in the face of her diffidence. It was as though they were waltzing about on eggshells, suddenly unsure of what to do, let alone what to say, so afraid to misstep. Eager to put her mind at ease, he opted for a moment of honesty, a rarity as far as he was concerned.
"I like you, Francesca. In spite of your quirks and mixed signals… which are honestly rather frustrating and if it were anyone else but you…"
"Believe me, I'm just as annoyed by it as you are. I'm normally not this indecisive, I swear."
Her sheepish grin left him gratified, so he continued.
"I've always enjoyed your company. You have it in you to be very… easy to be around. I also happen to value the friendship of your brother – something I've greatly missed since I've been away; and, if you hadn't noticed, we share much of the same social circle and I have no desire to part ways with any of you in the near future. Perhaps it would be best if you and I agreed to start over with a clean slate and leave the past behind us? No games, no expectations," he suggested, taking a careful step toward her. "Here, I'll start," and he extended his hand to her. "My name is Vlad Leinhart. And you are?"
Frankie, amused and even a little moved by his attempt at peace, smiled and took his hand, shaking it.
"Francesca Chase, sir."
The way she said sir made his stomach somersault. He managed a smile.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Chase," he said, and though the whole thing was rather silly, the woman before him clearly appreciated the gesture. Her entire person seemed to relax visibly, as if he had just eased a tremendous weight from her shoulders.
He held her hand in his for a bit longer than was probably needed as he privately relished in their renewed physical contact, as chaste as it was, before releasing her and suggesting they check to see if the coast was clear so they could depart.
Frankie nodded in agreement and watched as he excused himself from her presence for just a moment so he could check the street outside. When he motioned for her to join him, certain that they were in the clear, the pair then slipped back out into the crowd.
When Frankie was safe in the company of her brother and friends back at alliance headquarters, Dracula had stepped out into the back alley for a moment alone. Although he would be forever grateful for Rémy's insistence last night that he accompany Francesca on her visit to the Spider, he never could have foreseen just how much he had needed her company this evening.
He felt oddly rejuvenated, an alarming swell of uncharacteristic relief and hope for the future threatening to dismantle his sense of self-control. It was imperative – now more than ever – that he bridle his passions, and yet Dracula could not deny how wonderful it felt to be on good terms with the woman again.
He could feel her presence from where he stood, just beyond these walls and for a single moment, he welcomed the sense of calm and clarity that flooded his senses whenever she was near. He was glad they had made amends; that the air had been cleared between them. If anything, he longed to spend the remainder of his evening at her side, but he knew he would be unable to fully relax until the job ahead of him was complete.
Vlad had not forgotten that someone had threatened the person and safety of his future bride this night and he found it impossible to stand by and let those fools live for a single moment longer.
Dracula welcomed the return of his rage as he recalled their faces, and he embraced the fury with open arms. He was certain he had seen at least one of them before, and though it took him a moment or two to remember just where and when that had been, soon the memory returned and his lips twisted in a smile of pure devilment.
Eight months ago.
The nightclub, Scarlet, on the evening Rémy had gone to make a pact with Aldrick Mieno.
That's where he had seen that henchman before. Frankie had been correct when she had identified their employer as one of Basilio's underlings – Aldrick.
Yes, it was all coming back to him now. The cretin who had dared to take a shot at Frankie had been at Scarlet that night and the thought of that fool having the nerve to threaten the life of his would-be queen was too much to be born. In any other situation, Dracula would just go straight to the top of that food chain, after the puppet master who pulled all of those strings. But now was not the time to deal with the Spider… however, that didn't mean he was beyond sending the villain a message.
It was an hour before sunrise when Vladislaus arrived at the nightclub. The streets had grown quiet and the establishment had closed for the day as the small handful of employees cleaned up after their guests had departed. It was a simple task, slipping into the building as a plume of mist and shadow, sneaking past security, and remaining unseen in the darkness.
Dracula made his way up to the second floor office where Rémy had once met with the club's owner. He could hear angry shouting from beyond the door at the end of the hall, the conversation muted some, though not nearly enough for his carefully attuned ears.
"You idiots!" Aldrick was shouting. "It was a simple job! All you had to do was stay out of sight and she could have led you directly to them!"
"It's not our fault her stupid boyfriend noticed us," one of the henchman shot back, his response apparently supported by his comrade in their native tongue. "You said that if we got caught, we were supposed to just bring her in. We were only carrying out your orders."
"Yes – bring her in so if she was connected to the alliance, she couldn't raise any suspicions."
"She's just a stupid journalist. I don't get what all of the fuss is about."
"She works for Veritas! Don't you imbeciles read?"
"Calm down, boss. She had no idea who we were – she was just jumpy. I'd be jumpy too if I had just had some one-on-one time with the Spider."
"Guy gives me the creeps," the second henchman agreed in Russian.
"Me too," the first one replied before carrying on in the conversation with his friend. Aldrick interrupted.
"In English, gentlemen. English or not at all."
"I was just saying that it's strange that the Spider was interested in her at all. I mean, so she's a journalist. So what? Does she have anything on us? On our organization? I would think not. She was probably just fishing."
His comrade appeared to agree.
"Here's what we should do, boss," the henchman continued. "Why don't you just tell the Spider that we caught her, interrogated her, she knew nothing and Aleksei here let her get away."
The one named Aleksei apparently didn't like that plan, but his friend merely laughed in the face of his disapproval.
"No, no… it's a good plan. She got away, but it's okay because she didn't know anything. But you can also tell him that we plan to finish the job anyway so he's not antsy in the meantime."
"It could work," Aldrick agreed. "Basilio has enough on his plate right now… what's one journalist?"
"Exactly."
"Alright, Luka. I'll make the call. But in the meantime, you and your brother need to find that bitch and put her down. Understood?"
"Consider it done," Luka assured him.
Aldrick picked up the phone as his two guests prepared to leave.
Dracula slipped back down the stairs unnoticed as the mercenaries made their exit, the two brothers exchanging plan ideas as they made their way outside, unaware that they were being followed.
After leaving the establishment, the two vampires lingered for a moment in the alley of the nightclub, arguing about whether or not they should head home for the day and pick up where they had left off in the evening, or if they should work through the daylight hours. Their distraction and what lingered of the darkness of the early morning provided Dracula with just enough cover to strike.
With inhuman speed, he attacked the one called Aleksei first. Vlad was little more than a whirl of black shadow to the naked eye – the two never even saw him coming. All Luka saw was a hand that was not his brother's emerging from the man's chest, covered in blood and holding a heart that hadn't beat in nearly a century. Aleksei immediately began to wither away when Dracula pulled his hand back through the man's body, taking the heart with him and squeezing it until it turned to ash in his palm.
Aleksei fell to the pavement as time caught up with him, leaving him to erupt and decay into a mess of blood and remains on the asphalt.
Luka looked on in horror, too in shock to move, let alone protest, and when he finally gazed into Dracula's glowing eyes, he stumbled back in recognition.
"Y-you!" the man stuttered. "But you… you're…"
"Not in a crypt and certainly not missing," Dracula finished caustically, studying the crimson staining his hand with vague interest.
"But you… you were with her… how did I not know…"
"Women aren't the only ones who know the value of the right accessory," he taunted, revealing the concealment charm around his neck before tucking it back behind his shirt. Dracula began to lick the blood from his fingers as he took a step forward. "Speaking of women…"
"We weren't going to hurt her, I swear!" Luka insisted, holding his hands up in defense. "We were only supposed to scare her… that's all. You know… keep her quiet."
With lightening reflexes, Dracula was in the man's face, now holding the gun that had been previously secured to his opponent's waist not a second ago. Vlad placed the end of the barrel right between Luka's eyes.
"Don't lie to me," he growled, pulling the hammer back as the next bullet in the magazine was loaded into position.
Luka swallowed hard, eyes darting frantically between his king and the alley surrounding them, desperate for some sort of escape route.
"Alright… alright… it's true. We were going to rough her up a bit… boss wants her out of the way. But it wasn't my idea. I was just following orders. Please! You've got to believe me."
"Oh, I believe you," Dracula assured him with a false sense of understanding. He even rested his blood-soaked hand on the man's shoulder. "But you know what? I don't care," and he clicked the magazine release button so the cartridge slid out of the grip of the gun, falling to the ground.
Using Luka's moment of distraction, Vladislaus then grabbed the man by the back of the head with his free hand and pulled him forward, fangs bared. The henchman never had a moment to scream before Dracula had taken a bite out of the front of his throat, flesh and everything, until the eruption of blood followed and his inner demon awoke.
He fed like the ravenous beast he was, making no effort to ease the suffering of his prey as he gorged himself, greedy and starved. Luka's blood was cold and bitter, but extremely satisfying as he drained every last drop.
Dracula had had his fill only after the man started to waste away into nothingness when he finally met the true death and as the body in his hands disintegrated before him, he stared up at the early morning sky with glowing eyes, struggling to rein his blood lust back in.
No one would threaten Francesca's life like that again – not while he still roamed the earth.
He swore this to the heavens as the sun began to start its regular ascent into the sky and when he was satisfied, he returned his attention to what remained of the skull in his hand.
"Dasvidaniya," he whispered mockingly before throwing Luka's head into the direction of the nearest window of the nightclub beside him.
There was the sound of shattering glass and an exclamation of surprise from within, but before anyone could get a look at who had sent such an unmistakable message, Dracula had vanished into the shadows of the morning.
You don't threaten the future queen of Budapest on Dracula's watch. Not unless you plan to pay for it with your life.
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