Author's Note: Here is my third chapter. I know that I have changed the summary to this story many times and I do apologize for that. But now that I have the plot fully developed I promise not to change it again. Thank you all for your great reviews. They have been very encouraging! I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Van Helsing.
Chapter 2 Dripping Candles
As soon as Dracula had left the room, with a quick spin on his booted heels, Vela whipped around to face the others. A look of utmost hatred passed across her face as she surveyed the brides in their long trailing robes and delicate jewelry which hung from their necks and wrists. With one fluid motion she unhooked her own black cloak, letting it fall to the floor in a shadowy heap. She then shook her blond hair freeing it from its tight braid, allowing it to cascade in gentle curls that rolled down to the small of her back. All the while she never lifted her gaze from the three other women as they seemed just as vigilant as she. Silence reigned between them, a thick, smothering shroud that allowed no room for peace. The air grew heavy with an illness, a disease that had long preyed upon Dracula's brides, for hatred, comes in many forms. Had Vela known that her master was married to three other women she would have never allowed him to turn her. But, since this was a gruesome reality now, she was forced to accept it. The others shared an equal loathing of the younger vampire, but kept their tempers reigned in tightly, making sure that the master would never witness one of their frequent battles. Since the day of their meeting, however, evil plots had transpired in the minds of both warring fractions. None had ever been put into action of course, but it was amusing to picture a well placed stake through the heart of your greatest enemy. Vela knew that it was impossible for her to face the other three and come out the winner. She may have been a strong vampire, but the odds of three against one were too great for her to risk. But perhaps down the road an ally would be found, perhaps an enemy of an enemy could become her friend. The girl raised her head higher at the thought of this, saving it for the dark hours of the night, when all dreams, whether good or bad could come true. If she could just put an end to Aleera, the others would certainly follow. Her thoughts were interrupted however, by Verona's calm and soft voice.
"Did you enjoy your trip, Vela my dear?" the question held such mockery and sarcasm, that only a half-wit would take it for a true gesture of cordiality.
"Well, Verona," Vela muttered dangerously, "my holiday was quite pleasurable, but then I returned and found you three still haunting the master's dwelling, which soured my homecoming greatly." Marishka hissed angrily from behind Verona and Aleera threw a harsh glare at the offender.
"If only the master knew," Aleera's shrill tone broke through the stillness in the castle.
"Knew what?" Vela ventured, allowing a little amusement to seep into her words.
"Of how horribly you treat us," Aleera finished with a small nod of her red head. The bride's eyes flashed to a darker color, showing her rage.
"If you wish me to tell him," the younger girl sighed and moved to the room where Dracula was.
"No!" Aleera was in front of her, barring her way.
"Then do not complain!" Vela snapped, unable to restrain her fury.
"You insolent fool!" Aleera stepped forward, her canines growing.
"Hush! Hush!" Marishka hissed nervously. Her eyes darted towards the door at the opposite end of the hall, worried that the master had overheard their exchange. Their suspicions were confirmed when his voice rang throughout the cavernous hall.
"Vela!" he called. "Come to me!" Verona, Aleera and Marishka smiled brightly after hearing this. Vela sighed, hoping that the master was oblivious to their fight and that he would not invoke his wrath upon her. The girl bent and retrieved her cloak from where it had fallen, before turning to face the door. The others giggled softly as she moved away from them. Yet just as she reached the door, Vela turned and threw them such a look of utter loathing, that they were immediately silenced.
A clear, crystal goblet forever stained crimson from the blood of a thousand victims. It sat upon an elegant, light wood table, basking in the glow of a single candle, held in a gold candelabrum, its brothers remained unlit, their white wax frozen in time upon their long neck. A slender finger reached out to stroke the smooth surface of the goblet. A hand then grasped upon it fully and Dracula raised the liquid to his lips, closing his eyes for a moment before taking a small sip from its depths. The door behind the vampire clicked open quietly and Vela slid inside, her hands clutched upon her black cloak which dragged on the ground somewhat. Without turning in his seat, Dracula addressed her.
"My darling, lift your cape, for it trails on the floor," he murmured, not bringing his eyes from the chalice. The girl obeyed and bunched up the cloth as her master instructed. "Come," he raised one hand and beckoned to her. "Come to my side." His bride complied with his request and moved to kneel besides his large chair. After a moment or two and a few more sips from his goblet Dracula turned to face her. "Watch," he whispered, leaning his head closer to hers. "Watch the flame." Vela let her gaze fall upon the lone candle, creamy wax dripped down unto the wooden table; cooling the instant it hit the polished surface. "See how quickly it melts, from being a tall and erect structure, to now a twisted and mangled wreck? That, my dear, is what will become of the warrior that Rome has sent to destroy me, along with the last of the Valerious and then the entire human race," he smiled down at her, a gesture that did not run to his eyes. The girl grinned in return, observing as the candle destroyed itself.
"How much longer?" she could barely keep the excitement from her voice.
"Soon, Vela, soon," he purred. "But we must be patient and we must remain true to the cause." His words held great meaning and she knew it. Her master knew well of her arguments with the others and this was his way of asking her to cease the battle in his household.
"Yes master," she replied, entranced by the dancing fire.
"Good," Dracula reached forward and with the palm of his hand, extinguished the flame.