Chapter 6 – Trusting a Vampire
I woke to darkness. The only light that existed was coming from a candle, which was burning next to me. My body felt like it had been stabbed by a hundred needles and my head ached excruciatingly. I could only focus for a few seconds at a time and then I was forced to close my eyes or else I knew I would black out again. The room was unearthly quiet, but I was able detect another presence there besides myself. I ignored it, knowing it was the count. I could tell by the intensity in the atmosphere.
By making my body lay motionless, I wanted the count to believe I was still sleeping so I could think properly. However, I had no such luck, for he was extremely perceptive to what was going on around him and he emerged from the shadows just a few seconds after I awakened. His hair was drawn back, away from his face, and secured by a silver clip. I glowered at him fiercely and turned from him, so that if he wanted to hold a conversation, he would have to talk to the back of my head.
To my utmost surprise, he sat on the bed and laid a hand on my shoulder. A shiver went down my spine and I tried not to think how awkward the present situation was. I watched his shadow on the wall to keep my brain averted from the feeling that was lurking deep inside of me. I knew that if he tried anything, I would not be able to stop him. My mind and body were both too weak.
"You lost a lot of blood, Isabelle," he said finally. His voice was peaceful and melodious. "Perhaps the glass was sharper than I thought."
"Is that your form of an apology?" I growled harshly. "It's your fault; YOU'RE the one who crashed through the window. Not everyone is as invincible as you."
"I saved your life," he said, and his hand moved up to my neck. At any second he could strangle me and I would be gone quicker than lightning. "You should be grateful." He began to stroke my hair. My immediate reaction was to curl up against him, but I stayed put. I was determined not to give in.
"Why do you care if I live or not? My father is NEVER going to look here, so your hostage plan has failed. And the Grim Reaper said all I am doing is getting in your way," I snarled viciously. "What do I matter to you?"
The count started to laugh uncontrollably. There was nothing happy about it; his laugh was evil and held no joy. I scowled at the wall and fought to keep myself from screaming.
"More than you know, Isabelle," he said, as his hand grazed my cheek. "More than you will ever know."
I rolled over on to my other side to see if his face was sincere. When he caught my gaze, I reprimanded myself harshly for meeting his eyes. There was no way I could refuse him now. And he knew it.
"You make my skin crawl," I said in a desperate attempt to thwart him. If that line didn't work, then I was a hopeless case.
He raised his eyebrows and bent forward so that his face was extremely close to mine. A strand of his dark hair brushed my cheek. "Well, my dear Isabelle…" he kissed my hand elegantly, "… that's not all I could do with your skin." Before I could argue, he took both my arms in his hands and pinned them down. I wanted to fight back, but I was exhausted and lacked the proper energy to resist. I thought of my father and wondered what he was doing right now. Probably pouring over a book or looking outside a window, waiting for me to return. There would be no going back, though. I was sure of it.
"Why so silent?" The count's voice jolted me back to the present in the dark room with hardly any light. I blinked at him and didn't answer. All the color had left my face.
"Don't fear me, everybody else fears me," he said, and for one moment his tone had a hint of sadness in it. Or was it anger? I couldn't tell.
"I don't fear you," I replied. "I LOATHE you."
"Isabelle," his eyes flashed warningly and he frowned. "I am willing to provide you with some leniency, given your present state. But respect is a must or else I will be entitled to take more… extreme measures." The count rested his stomach lightly on mine, and the look that he gave made me shudder. He knew that I wanted him, but I was fighting my feelings, which were starting to become uncontrollable. I damned his pride and self-assurance. He always thought he was correct, and in this situation, he was. My breathing accelerated and I felt a sort of panic creep into me. My natural instinct was to fight, but I couldn't. Flee? Not even an option. I was trapped underneath the body of a vampire and my rational thinking was deteriorating as he continued to mesmerize me. I could feel my eyes glazing over.
"You will need to be careful about your head," he commented, breaking the eye contact he held with me. "The wound is deep and needs time to heal properly. You humans, I don't know how you have survived all these years without possessing self-rejuvenation. Pity…" he remarked slyly, and got up from the bed, freeing my arms. "It's best that you rest now. If you need anything, either call or ring this bell." He motioned to a tiny bell sitting next to the candle. "Sweet dreams." I watched him leave, and then breathed out a huge sigh of relief. Or was it disappointment? I shivered. Determined not to think that, I rested my bandaged head against a pillow and closed my eyes, letting the darkness take me away from my perplexed feelings.
Music. I could hear it coming from somewhere in the castle. I sat up, my head stinging, but I ignored the pain. I knew that tune. It sounded so familiar, so encompassing that my eyes began to glisten. I got out of the bed and grabbed the candle. I wanted to find out who was making such beautiful music.
The corridor was empty and lit by torches, as usual. The music was louder, and I guessed that it was in this hallway, next to one of my rooms. I listened carefully, and opened the door to the left of my chamber. A small smoking room. Displeased, I slammed the door shut. The tune started to ring in my ears, and my throat closed up as I remembered how, after my mother's death, Gabriel had sat down at our old piano and played this tune over and over. I had pulled at his collar, begging him to go outside and ride with me, but he had kept on playing, the tune jarring my ears and shattering my skull. Now, 15 years later, each note still crunched at my bones with the force of a thousand plow horses. But irregardless, I thought the piece was wonderful, even though it brought to me a grievous amount of horrid memories.
Desperate to find the source of the music, I listened again and chose the room three doors down on my right. Upon opening the door I found myself in an elaborate music room with a shiny oak floor. In the middle was a gorgeous grand piano, and sitting at it was none other than Count Vladislaus Dragulia. How a demon could produce such harmonious music I was unable to understand. He had not commented on my presence, so I took the opportunity to watch him play. My heart started to soften as I realized he was lamenting for something or someone through this music. But could a vampire lament?
"It is very beautiful," I said, blinking away the moisture that had formed around the base of my eyes. "I did not know that in Romania people knew how to perform Fûr Elise with such passion. Or perhaps you are the only one?"
The count sighed heavily and continued to play. "You like Beethoven?" he inquired, his eyes never moving from the piano.
"I adore him and his music. It is unfortunate that I have grown up despising this particular piece," I answered, my heart thumping in rhythm with the music. "You make it so pleasing, though, that all bad notions have been eradicated, at least. I thank you for that."
He did not reply, so I approached the piano. He kept on playing, ignoring the fact that I was advancing on him. When I was right next to his side, I asked, "Will you teach me?"
The count looked over at me and raised his eyebrows. "Teach you what?"
I swallowed hard. "How to play Fûr Elise." I placed the candle on a table that was adjacent to the piano. "I've… I've always wanted to know how to play it, since I was a little girl. My father never had the time, though. He…" I closed my mouth, knowing it was not proper to say untrue things about Gabriel. The count shrugged but did not take his eyes off of me. He was studying me, searching for something, and I grew uncomfortable under his gaze. It was like he could see through me, to the bottom of my soul, and he knew every horrid thing I had done. I shifted awkwardly; my hands were beginning to sweat.
"Very well," he said in his thick accent. "With the storm and everything, I think it wise that you do something productive during your stay here. But on one condition." He stood up and turned so that his entire body was facing me.
"Yes?" I whimpered, realizing for the first time how much taller he was than me. Why did I not notice it before?
"Do you trust me?" He said, while letting his hair down so that it shaded half of his face from view.
"Wha…" I began. The count's eyes flashed and he bared his fangs. I took a step backward.
"You heard what I said," he snapped. "And don't try to lie, Isabelle, I can see inside your mind. Lies do not work with me." He took my arm and flew me out of the music room to the balcony that was connected to it. As I stood on the banister with him, I looked out over the forest, repeating to myself not to look down. I did not want to know how many feet were between the ground and the balcony.
The count flew out into thin air so that he was facing me. I could tell by the expression on his face that I was not going to like what he was about to say next.
"Jump," he commanded, his black wings beating furiously.
"I will not," I retorted, glaring at him.
"If you trust me, you will jump. I will catch you before you hit the ground," he said simply.
"And if I don't?" I said, my face flushing with sweat and the heat of the night.
"Then I will know your true feelings," he replied, his face bathing in the moonlight. If I had not known of his true identity, I would've mistaken him for an angel.
I glanced down. At least 100 feet. Maybe more. I gulped and tried to keep myself from shaking.
Just do it, my conscious said. You know he will catch you. You just don't think you are capable of trusting a vampire.
Has he given me any reason to trust him? I argued.
Yes. He rescued you from the wolves and the Grim Reaper. He did not try to rape you last night, even though you were at his mercy. He has had many opportunities to harm you and hasn't. He is keeping you here for some other reason than to draw Gabriel out of Budapest. He cares about you, Isabelle. Don't deny it.
He does not. If he cared about me, he wouldn't be a vampire. Demons don't have hearts, remember?
"On the contrary, Isabelle, demons do have hearts," the count said softly. "We just can't use them… our feelings are all dried out. We are tired of the pain that love brings, so we cannot love. Unless… unless we find someone special to rekindle that feeling," he spat, like it was an inconvenience for him to find that special person.
"Fine. If you care about me, you'll catch me," I said, and jumped quickly, eluding his grasp as he lunged for me. The wind rushed up to meet my face, and I was screaming, but no sound was coming from my lungs. The ground was getting closer, the night and snow was dancing around me. I knew that at any second I could be dead. It was only a matter of time. The count would not come. He would not have to kill me himself, he could let earth do it for him. How lucky a vampire…
Then I was in his arms, and I closed my eyes so I did not have to look at his face and see his expression. His wings thrashed vigorously as he flew back up to the balcony. He set me down and I opened my eyes to flee from him, but he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around. His eyes were blood red and he seemed to have grown at least a foot in height. He towered over me like a menacing shadow and I resisted the temptation to beg for pardon at his feet.
"THAT WAS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND! YOU DID NOT WARN ME, ISABELLE! YOU COULD'VE DIED!" Vladislaus roared, his voice losing the seductive charm and taking on a devilish tone. Scared to death that he was going to transform into Satan right then and there, I scrambled away from him and crouched down next to a plant. He groaned and took on his normal appearance, six foot four with long black hair and a pierced ear.
"Look… I did not expect you to jump, Isabelle. I thought I knew what you were going to do." He folded his hands but did not move. "I know that you don't trust me, so why you jumped I can not comprehend."
I stood up and eyed him apprehensively. "I don't know either." I brushed a strand of reddish-brown hair away from my face so I could see him more clearly. "I suppose…I did it to make your job harder."
He laughed. "Do you think keeping you alive is easier than murdering you? If I had let those wolves kill you, Van Helsing would be dead, and I would be granted my deserved seat next to the devil. The only reason I have spared your life and risked my own is because…" he paused and did not finish his sentence. Instead, he put his hair back up into the clip and brushed past me. At the exit, he turned and said, "If you still wish to know how to play that piece, come here tomorrow morning. I will be ready." With that, he left.