Chapter 7: Ghosts

The hour before dawn found Seras wandering the castle corridors, eyes closed and ears open to the sound of the great mechanism. Gears that rumbled like ocean waves, the hiss of pistons, the roar of the furnace, all as familiar to her as the sound of her own mother humming as she went about her daily life. A life so far removed from what Seras had become that it seemed altogether alien that she had once been a little girl who swept the hearthstones with a broom that was too tall and played with little, wooden dolls carved by her father.

As her red eyes slid open again, she noticed a flash of movement down the hall, the hem of a gown and golden hair that reflected the fading moonlight. She froze where she stood, watching the figure disappear around a corner, then hurried after it. "Lisa?"

Time seemed to stretch like amber in glass, dragging her footsteps back with every stride she took. She called out to the specter again and broke into a run, wheeling violently into the next hallway…only to find it empty.

Except for a familiar door.

Seras let her shoulders sag as she regarded it, a familiar anger and hurt rising in her chest. She had no talent with ghosts, not in the way Striga or Arthur Belmont had. Most often, the apparitions she saw proved to be nothing but shades, mere echoes of life retracing its steps. Wherever Lisa's spirit was, it wasn't here. The shroud of misery that had consumed Dracula's castle could swallow the sun if it chose. With a long sigh, the vampiress approached the door at the end of the hall and tried the tarnished knob. It rattled noisily in the gloom and, a draft of stale air caused her to wrinkle her nose as the door swung silently inward on oiled hinges. The room beyond smelled of dust and paint long dried, of parchment, and if she stood there long enough, tilted her head at a certain angle and closed her eyes again, Seras could just barely detect the faintest trace of her brother. As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw clearly the toys his parents had made for him, the blueprints of strange machines Adrian was always working on, the ceiling of painted stars and constellations that had fostered his lifelong love of astronomy.

"Sister," his little voice echoed and she saw the shade of the boy run into her arms. "Sister, look, I've finished it!"

Seras sat down on the bed and remembered asking what 'it' was. Then Adrian unrolled a scroll of paper to show her the intricate designs of some machine or other, something that was meant to fly or drive across the earth faster than any horse. Neither of these held much appeal for her, as she could already do both, but she never spoke a word to belittle her brother's work or imagination. When he'd gotten older and refined his diagrams a little, he often asked her if she could find him certain materials: aluminum, steel, coal, anything that could be smelted and forged into the parts he needed.

Always the doting sister, she obliged, happy to please and also very, very eager to see how far Lisa and Dracula's son would go.

Biting her lip until it bled, Seras lay herself down on the bed and gathered the blanket to her chest. "Shall I send you after your brother then?" Oh, God, the ice that had flooded her heart and veins at those words, a fear so poignant and traumatic, the loss, the feeling that she was prey before her sire's wrath for the first time since…. "What have you done?"

Dracula's hand did not yield.

"What have you done!"

Bloody tears welled in the vampire lady's eyes. Adrian, where are you? Did we truly lose you too? The silence persisted and she pressed her face into the blanket to stifle a sob.

To this day, and she no longer dared ask, Dracula had never spoken of Adrian's fate, and Seras never sensed her brother's presence again. The frantic weeks she spent searching Wallachia for him, hoping she'd read her master's words wrong and that he was alive, were in vain. Distance mirrors yielded nothing. Divining magic proved useless. Her desperation grew and amounted to naught but a grief so wretched that had Walter and Pip not taken her by her hands and told her softly, "Enough. Let him go," the loss might have consumed her.

This castle had been so full of life when Lisa came to them. Even Seras in all her bitterness had grown to accept that, and when Adrian was born into their little family, she even began to embrace it. These past twenty years had been sweet and prosperous. Though war troubled the human borders and strife persisted among the vampire factions, Seras had truly loved everything Lisa represented in the end.

But everything slipped away so fast, and now it was only she and Dracula who remained.

And ghosts.

"Seras," Schrödinger whispered in her ear, though her page was nowhere to be seen. "The master calls."

She opened her eyes. "Is he in his study?"

The werecat did not reply. Nor did he have to. It was clear where Dracula was. Without another word, Seras pushed herself off the bed, pulled the blanket neatly back into place the way she used to when she tucked her brother in when the sun rose, and straightened her skirts. Closing the door carefully behind her, she turned and strode away, chin up, eyes forward, the way the Grand General was meant to be seen. She rounded a corner and passed the corridor that would take her to the Marble Gallery, then the grand stairwell that led up into the chapel, where neither she nor any vampire ever set foot for the feeling of unease that hung in the air, before she finally passed down one more hallway to her father's study.

As she turned, she narrowed her red eyes when she saw Godbrand was coming from the opposite end of the corridor. Immediately, she slowed her pace so as not to appear aggressive and incite a brawl. That was the last thing she needed right now. The Berserkr chieftain did the same, apparently having similar thoughts. They passed each other with barely a glance, and Seras would have been fine to leave it at that had she not remembered a particular of her and Carmilla's conversation last night. She came to a stop on the carpet, turned her head, and asked aloud, "Carmilla, Godbrand? Seriously?"

The draugr looked over his shoulder and smirked. "You're one to talk. The Librarian?"

"At least I am getting some."

She almost expected him to turn and come after her with his axe or sword for that remark, but all Godbrand did was laugh ruefully and throw his middle finger up in the air as he continued on his way. Seras watched the retreating figure with a small sneer. The two of them were not friends, that much was plain, but they both knew they had bigger enemies within these walls. And there is wisdom in trusting the devils we know best.

When she stepped into Dracula's study, Isaac and Hector were on their way out, both grim-faced and silent. At the sight of her, Hector's lips curled in a slight smile while his elder counterpart acknowledged her with a polite but severe incline of his head. In answer, Seras stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around their necks, pulling them close to her. Both men tensed in surprise, but after a moment, she felt Hector lay an uncertain hand on her back, then Isaac, equally hesitant, touched his fingertips to her shoulder.

"I have gifts for you both," she said quietly. "I left them in your workshops."

"Lady Seras—" Isaac began, only to cut himself off when she planted a brief kiss on his cheek. She then did the same for Hector, who pulled away from their triad embrace and stared at her, astonished.

"Go on, you two," Seras said with her warmest smile. "It's late and you've been forging all night. Get some sleep."

"Y-You as well, madame. Thank you." Hector nodded, then started off down the corridor in the direction of his quarters. Isaac left without a word, although Seras almost thought she caught a faint smile as he turned away. She spared a minute to watch them go, then let her content expression fade to one of resignation and turned to her sire.

Dracula was sitting, as he'd done every night this past year, slumped in his chair with his gaze trained on the fireplace as though it would show him some forbidden secret known only to the gods. When Seras entered the study, he neither rose nor said a word, only stared and pondered dark thoughts. Or so she'd come to expect whenever he called on her like this. Seras nodded to the portrait of Lisa on the wall, then circled her master's chair to stand before him. Its twin was gone, broken to kindling in a fit of rage the year previous, so she was compelled to remain on her feet, a sharp reminder of her earliest years as Dracula's fledgling.

"You wished to see me, sir?" she asked softly.

"Yes." Dracula's voice was hollow and weary. "I owe you my gratitude, Daughter. Your timing at the council last night was impeccable."

"Of course," she answered, a sense of relief washing over her. "I'm happy to have been of use. Although I must admit…the war council does seem a little tattered. It worries me, sir."

The old vampire—strange; when had she started to think of him as old?—sighed a brought a hand to his brow. "I suppose you were right when you told me it was folly to appoint Isaac and Hector as my tactical officers."

"It's a burden I would not have inflicted upon them. They are young and have been through much."

"Perhaps," Dracula said. "But so had you when you were human."

I have had decades to hone my cruelties. "Am I to return to the front, sir? Is that why you have called me tonight?"

"No, I would have you here. This…resistance in Gresit concerns me. Especially now since Isaac has informed me that our raiding party to Argeș has not yet returned."

First Gresit, now Argeș? Seras frowned. A coincidence? Or was something moving south from the city and posing a threat to their forces? The latter was a definite possibility, but as for who or what could be killing night creatures…other territorial night creatures maybe? If there was a pack of werewolves or goblins that lived and bred naturally in the area, then she supposed it was possible the demons the forge masters and the Master Librarian had raised were encroaching their local prey. On the other hand, cities like Argeș and the surrounding villages had once been Belmont land. It wasn't entirely unfeasible the residents remembered the proper way to defend their homes from monsters, provided the Church hadn't discouraged and damned such practices as supersition and witchcraft.

"Well, Argeș is a large town," she considered. "I suppose it's possible the creatures were held up and found a place to nest during the daylight hours. Would you like me to dispatch a reconnaissance team to locate them?"

"No, I don't think so," Dracula answered. "You may be right about the daylight, so I suppose we shall wait first and see what this next night brings. If they don't turn up, I'll have Sharma or Godbrand set out and see what became of them."

"Very well." Then Seras widened her eyes at another possibility, but she discarded it before it could really take shape. In the past few months, she had slowly come to accept Adrian was dead, but with this unexpected news from Argeș…no, it couldn't be. And yet the city was close to Gresit, and her brother…he had a private residence there….Seras covered her mouth with her hand. How could I have forgotten that? This didn't make sense; she had helped Adrian build the underground keep. There was no way she could have—

"What do you make of Carmilla, Daughter?" Her sire's voice cut into her thoughts.

Seras blinked. "Carmilla? A cocksure, little vixen who wears tawdry dresses and thinks herself mighty. Why?"

"Her bid for attention last night is troubling," her master said. "And I hear she visited with you before dawn. Of what did you speak?"

"Simple things." She shrugged. "She wished to speak with a 'great lady.'"

"And did she find one?"

"Of course, sir." Seras smiled coldly. There was a reputation to uphold when one was the fledgling of Dracula. "She thought she might challenge me."

"Then you think she will attempt to dominate the court?"

"That is beyond dispute, sir. She's already swayed Godbrand to her side."

"Can you sway him back?"

Seras made a face. "Must I?"

Dracula chuckled darkly and lowered his hand back to the arm of his chair. "I see your rivalry with him hasn't yet cooled."

"You say 'yet' as though you expect it to, sir."

"One can hope for a little less squabbling within his own house." The elder vampire said and rose from his chair, going to the hearth to toss another log onto the fire. "However, we will need our allies of one mind if we are to succeed in our pursuits. The machinations of one vampire above the rest could throw everything out of joint."

Seras nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll do my utmost."

Her sire nodded in satisfaction as he returned to his chair, sinking into it as though Atlas was setting aside his heavy burden. He put a hand to the bridge of his nose and groaned, and Seras wondered with a twinge of unease when he had last fed. A headache was the first sign of starvation. "Shall I send someone up with some blood, Master?"

"No." He did not open his eyes. "I'm fine, Seras. You're dismissed. We'll convene the Council first thing tomorrow tonight."

"Yes, sir." She bobbed her head once, took a step toward the door, and stopped. "May I speak freely, Master?"

Dracula sighed, sounding as if he wanted nothing more than to be left in peace. "Always, my dear."

Seras hesitated, glanced over his head at the portrait of Lisa, watching them dispassionately in the dark, then she sank to the floor and knelt before her sire. "Master…" She placed her hands on his knees, swallowed hard, and met his gaunt eyes. "Father…this must end."

Dracula narrowed his eyes.

Taking a trembling breath, she continued, "We can kill, sir. And kill and kill and kill and kill. But none of it will bring her back."

She felt his anger before she saw it. The room seemed to ice over in spite of the fire at her back, then his eyes darkened with rage, and Seras braced herself for it. The slap came like a smith's hammer striking an anvil and left her ears ringing from the force of it. The cry that left her lips did not sound like her as the floorboards rushed up to meet her. She fell across the hearth, stagnant blood on her lips. "You know I'm right!" she coughed, struggling upright to put some distance between herself and Dracula, who by then had risen from his chair again and was stalking toward her. "You know this isn't what she would have wanted!"

He seized her by her hair and yanked her like an errant kitten back to her feet. Seras tasted more blood as he struck her face again and again until she cried out from the pain of it. Yet she did nothing in retaliation nor did she beg for mercy. Her hands went to the pale, immovable fingers knotted in her hair as though she could somehow lessen the pain or loosen his grip, and she focused her eyes on the images that flashed before her: hearth, the spiderweb on the ceiling, the bookshelf, Lisa's portrait watching them, the desk, the carpet, an interval of blinding, white pain punctuating each one. Then he finally relented and dropped her at his feet where she lay gasping for air on reflex.

"You will speak no more of this."

"I will speak of it as often as I please," she retorted through clenched teeth and the heel of a boot slammed into her shoulder.

He could kill her if he wanted. If anyone could, it was probably Dracula, and as her collarbone and humerus snapped under the pressure, Seras thought he actually might this time. His hand wrapped around the back of her slender neck.

"Shall I send you after your brother then?" The words echoed in her memory like a funeral bell. Blood dripped onto the floor of the study and smeared behind her as she was dragged roughly from the fire. "Your anger is misplaced," she snarled. "And your grief blinds you! How many more must die before you realize that!"

Dracula heeded neither her words nor her struggles and threw open the door. Before Seras could speak anymore, he hurled her into the hallway where she smashed into the opposite wall and slid to the floor in a crumbled pile of limbs. "Remember your place, fledgling. Or I will end your story here."

She spat blood at the door, but it swung closed with a violent BANG! "Bastard!" she screamed. Fuck…her ribs were broken. Her shoulder was a mess and it hurt to breathe, so she stopped and swallowed the blood on her lips. However, she could feel herself healing. When she pushed herself up and leaned her back against the wall, she could feel her bones and blood vessels knit themselves back together like raindrops flowing together on a pane of glass. She sighed and stared listlessly at her master's door. The blood Walter had ensured she drank was doing its work well.

The bruises faded, but she shuddered at the sensation of phantom fingers on her neck and in her hair. Not yet. She swallowed and dropped her chin to her chest. "Hector…help me."

There was a scuffle of boots in the shadows, and then the forge master stepped into view. She didn't know why he'd come back. Perhaps he'd forgotten to tell Dracula some vital news. Maybe he'd heard from the Argeș party. Or he had something to say outside of Isaac's hearing. Or he could have even heard her pained cries as she suffered her master's assault. Whatever the reason, Seras looked up and saw the horrified look in the young man's eyes, as if she were one of his cherished pets laying broken on the floor. "Did Dracula do this?" There was a small tremor in his voice as he knelt beside her.

"Never you mind." She grimaced. It was a silly question—was she not just outside her sire's study?—but she forgave him for it. Shock made fools of everyone, and he had definitely never seen her in such a state.

"What happened, Seras?" he asked, so easily dropping her title.

"I spoke out of turn and paid for it."

"He tried to kill you?"

"Don't be dramatic. He wouldn't kill me," she said, much more confidently than the situation deserved. Or rather, he doesn't kill me. In truth, she didn't know how or why she could defy Dracula the way she did, and yet walk away where Adrian hadn't. Surely her brother had resisted their father, but he was struck down, never to be seen again. Even the shield that was being the vampire king's own flesh and blood proved to be a paper one. Although, she considered, Adrian had confronted their father at the height of his rage. In a deadly combination of raw agony and fury, Dracula may have lost his head and whatever happened after was Adrian's wrong place and wrong time.

Seras closed her eyes, a bloody tear sliding down her swollen cheek.

"Do you want me to bring you back to your rooms?" Hector asked.

"No," she coughed. "The library. I need to see Pip."

"I'll bring you back to your rooms and send for him then."

She lashed out a hand and gripped his arm while her own shrieked in protest. "No. If I go back, Walter will only fuss. The library, Hector. Please."

The steel in her voice gave the young man pause, and he looked indecisively between the direction of where her chamber was located and the direction the library lay. His dithering didn't last long. He must have figured that even in her current state, he was still no match for her, and so he gingerly pulled her to her feet and offered her his arm. Seras leaned heavily against him and coughed, spitting blood from her punctured lungs. "Dammit, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," he said.

They made their way slowly down the corridor, accompanied by silence as Seras listened for footsteps that weren't theirs, not wishing to be seen by the other vampires. If she wanted, she could slip into her shadow form and move undetected through the castle, but then her corporeal body would not heal and she needed her strength for this place.

"Lady Seras," said Hector, reverting back to his usual formality. "Do you think the war is going well?"

Seras frowned. It wasn't like him to ask those sort of questions. Unless provoked, Hector was a quiet man who kept to himself and his work, an unfortunate byproduct of an unfortunate childhood. Till now, Seras had never heard him utter anything in concern to the war out side his expert opinion in maintaining their forces and his steadfast protest against the wholescale butchery. Outwardly, she murmured, "As I said the other night, I think our overt thrashing of Wallachia will eventually come back to bite us, but for now, I don't believe we have cause for concern. Why do you ask?"

"Just something Godbrand was telling me the other night."

So the Generals' unrest was already turning to doubt in their cause and Dracula's intentions, and Seras had a sinking suspicion Carmilla was at the root of it. "I see."

"He's speaking out against the chaos and the lack of strategy, and in a way, it makes sense," Hector continued. "We aren't an organized front and as of yet, there are no plans to…corral the humans. And now I've found you like this…and Dracula hurt you. You of all people? I thought…"

Seras swallowed bile in her throat. Dracula had no plans to corral the humans, but only she, Walter, and the other two humans, Isaac and Pip, knew of that. And she wondered how long it would be before the rest of the castle knew it too. She smiled dismissively as they turned a corner, "You shouldn't place much stock in what Godbrand says, Hector."

"It's hard not to," the young man insisted. "The Viking chieftain was a warrior during our grandfathers' grandfathers' time, and he didn't die a young man."

"True."

"So he must have some credibility in surviving as long as he did, right?"

"Dumb luck is not credibility," she said in as stern a voice she could manage. "And dissent is still dissent."

Hector was silent a moment, then, "Yes, ma'am."

By the time they reached the Library, Seras's ribcage had sorted itself out and she was stretching her newly healed arm above her head. "I've got it from here," she said as she approached the doors. "Thank you for your help."

"I wish you would allow it, you know."

"What's that?"

"You said Walter would only fuss over you if I brought you back to your rooms," Hector said. "You are very beloved by your staff, the majority of them anyway. Where's the harm letting your loved ones show they care when the occasion arises, my lady?"

Seras took a breath and placed a hand on the library doors. "You're a sweet boy, Hector," she said over her shoulder. "Hold onto that as long as you can, will you?"

-0-0-0-

Author's Notes: Finally able to delve more thoroughly into Seras' thoughts. Till now, she hasn't been by herself or with anyone who mattered, and the following chapter will also provide some explanation to her behavior so far.

Thanks for reading.

I own neither of these series.