Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH for your reviews. I really appreciate your support and comments. Keep reading… this chapter is rather exciting! J
Chapter 7 – In the Embrace of the Count
I ate dinner that night quickly with no intention of going to bed at a reasonable hour. I was going to search the library until I found some thread of information on why in the hell the count was keeping me here. I only knew a little of my father's story and I wanted to understand how my father and the count were connected. I was sure it went beyond the bonds of rivalry. Something else had happened.
When I entered the library, the fire was dying and the wind outside was howling ferociously. I lit a candle and went to the bookcase where I had found my father's biography. I searched for a book called something like Knights of the Holy Order and instead saw a book labeled, Killing Evil: What You MUST Know. Why the count would want something like that in his own personal library I could not fathom, but I wasn't about to complain.I sat down in a chair by the sparse fire and opened the book to the Index. Vampires were on page 452.
My hands were numb and I fumbled through the pages, my lips trembling. I was aware of how cold the library had gotten, but I presumed it had something to do with the fire going out. When I reached the page, the heading was written in small, gothic letters that curved and intertwined with each other so that it was barely legible. Underneath the heading was a list of things that could kill vampires. Holy water, crucifix, cross, silver stake, sunlight. The book proceeded to tell me how to keep a vampire away, amongst other things. At the end of the chapter was a section called: Undead Giving Birth to the Living. It went on to explain that if a vampire and a mortal human mated, the offspring would be born alive and proceed to have a normal life with no hints at all of his/her demonic origins. However, if not introduced to blood by his/her 17th year, the child would die due to internal complications. If the child drank blood, he/she could then choose between living as an immortal vampire, or a mortal human. There was a catch, however. The blood had to come from a vampire. If it came from another source, the child would die.
I shivered and shut the book. It did not help me with the search for the connection between Gabriel and Vladislaus, and I was starting to feel lightheaded. I put the book down on a table and went back to the bookcase. I started at the other end, near the A section. The genre was tragedy. My eyes passed over a great many books and if I had the time, I would have liked to read them all. But I was desperate to come across some source of information about the connection Gabriel had with this… I didn't even know what to call the count anymore.
My finger traced over the inscription on a book and when I read the title I jumped. The binding was black as night, but written in tiny, gold letters were the words Dracula's Demise. I smiled and withdrew it, knowing I held a wealth of knowledge in my hands. This was what I had been looking for.
I took my seat by the fireplace and opened to the first page. The story started out in the mid-1400s, when the Turks were invading Romania. I was drawn into the book and sat, enthralled, as the words on the page formed an unknown world for me in my mind. People and feelings that I didn't even know existed were brought to life and I flew from chapter to chapter until I arrived at the part where my father entered the story. The author of the book portrayed Gabriel in such a way that I found myself rooting for Dracula and his brides, to my utmost disgust. Anna seemed like a stubborn yet charming girl, but my father was a murderer, a scheming bastard who didn't deserve to live. He did not sound like the Gabriel I knew.
The count was killed again by my father, but only his body had been destroyed, not his soul. I rubbed my temples, confused, for common knowledge taught that the damned did NOT posses souls. It appeared that I had much to learn. The book continued and explained the punishment that awaited Dracula when he descended to his birthplace: hell. 39 lashes were given to the count and then he was harshly reprimanded by the Devil for failing in his "mission." The Devil tortured Vladislaus for 16 long, painful years and then sent him back to fulfill his assignment. Dracula's orders? The same as before: Wreck havoc upon any who stood in the Devil's path of glory, particularly Van Helsing himself. His reward if he succeeded? A seat next to the Dark Lord.
"So basically, Satan is a sluggard who has others do the arduous work for him," I murmured, as I turned the page. My eyes narrowed as I realized that at least three pages had been ripped out and their whereabouts made unknown to me.
"Damn it." I shut the book and tucked it under my arm. I had a slight suspicion that the count had confiscated the pages, but I wasn't going to jump to conclusions. Plus, he was awake somewhere in the castle, doing God knows what. Probably feasting on the blood of some poor thing. I hoped it was an animal and not a human.
I left the library, unaware of the eyes that were following me. My head was aching again and I knew it had to be at least 3 in the morning. The snow storm raged outside and I wondered how long the weather had been like this. At least two days. Maybe more. I drew my cloak around my shoulders and sighed.
My room was quiet and empty, as usual. The curtains were open so some moonlight could stream in, and the snow was making icy streak marks on the window. I glanced up at the woman in the painting and found that she was staring straight back at me. I jumped, did a double take, and when I looked up again, her gaze was focused on my bedpost. I rubbed my eyes, concluding that my lack of sleep was making me hallucinate. Without even thinking more about it, I slipped into a light nightgown and went to bed, the moonlight warming the room with her gentle rays.
I rose early the next morning, for I was still interested in learning how to play Fûr Elise, and I knew the count did not approve of tardiness. I decided to wear a long, Victorian gown, with sleeves that rested on the arms instead of the shoulders. It was a beautiful silk dress, crafted by the most dexterous hands I had ever seen. Maybe the count would forgive me for last night if he was distracted by the gown. It always worked for the young men back home. I was convinced it would work for him also.
When I arrived at the music room, the curtains were shut and candles were lit in lieu of sunlight. My footfalls echoed across the oak floor and I was aware of how loud they seemed. I tried to walk with more elegance, but the sound just grew louder. I gave up and sat in front of the piano, resting my hands on the white keys and admiring the fine workmanship. Clearly, the count had spared no expense. It was a piano made for a noble, an aristocrat bathing in the splendors of wealth and freedom. But at the same time, Vadislaus's wealth and freedom came at a terrible price: an eternal bond to the devil.
The door creaked behind me and I knew the count had entered. I ignored his presence and studied the keys. I placed my thumb on middle C and pressed down the note, wary of how it would sound. When the count had played on the piano, the tune had been flawless, pure and virginal, like a quintessential maiden in the prime of her youth. But when I played it, the piano jarred and screeched, making me cringe and throw up my hands in despair. I did not have the gift that the count possessed. And that made me feel ashamed.
"Isabelle," he said softly. I couldn't hear him approaching, but I was able to tell that he was coming towards me because of the shadow he cast on the wall. I kept my eyes trained on the ground and did not look up when he reached over my shoulder and placed the music on the stand.
"Usually, someone who is an amateur at the piano should not attempt to learn Fûr Elise unless she is given further instruction on the scales," he said. "However, I believe that if you have a dire wish to play it, your heart with overcome your incompetence."
He stood behind me and bent down so that his face was close to mine. "Do you know how to play anything?" he asked sincerely, with no hint of mockery in his voice.
I nodded. "Good King Wenceslas and some other simple Christmas tunes. But I don't know if…"
"Wonderful. Play it."
My hands shook as I tried to remember what Gabriel had taught me. I did not wish to anger the count and I wanted to make him believe I was capable of playing Fûr Elise. He appeared to be no longer upset with me but I didn't know if it had to do with the dress or just the fact that he had forgotten. Either way, I was not wiling to refuel his volatile temper again. But I just couldn't recall what note to start with…
"Can you remember it?" he inquired. His tone was still gentle, and I knew lying to him was useless. If he got angry, then I would just have to deal with it.
"No," I whispered. "It was so long ago…"
"Very well, Isabelle, we will begin with Fûr Elise then. Start on note E." He motioned to a white key with his hand.
I played the note. "Very good. Now E flat. That is the black key to the left of note E. Use your ring finger." I followed his instructions perfectly, afraid that if I made even one small mistake he would unleash his wrath upon me again.
"Wonderful. Now you play those two notes a total of three consecutive times before moving on to this key, B. Do you think you can handle that?" he asked gently.
"I'm Gabriel's daughter. Of course I can." I played the notes correctly, but the tune still sounded vulgar to my ears. I wondered if it had something to do with my hearing or if it was just my imagination. The count seemed oblivious to my internal conflict.
"Now after B is D, then C, then A. Play those accurately and I will be much pleased, Isabelle," he said. His breath was warm and soothing to my skin. I resisted the urge to look over at him.
I played the notes exactly right, and I could feel a smile forming at the corners of my lips. But the sound of the piano was ruining my joyful accomplishment. I frowned instead, grateful that he was not paying attention to my expression.
"Excellent. Now from the beginning," he said as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. I swallowed hard and told myself not to panic.
"Note E," I told myself, "...and then E flat." I could feel my legs quivering and I took a deep breath.
"OK. Now B," I whispered as I began to press down the note. My hand was shaking terribly and I gasped in horror as I played C instead of B.
"No, no, Isabelle, here," he said, and he placed his hand on top of mine, ceasing the uncontrollable trembling. "You're frightened," the count said, but he did not remove his hand. "Do I frighten you?"
"Sometimes," I answered reluctantly, scared of the satisfaction that my confession would bring to him. He did not answer, and I could feel my body relax next to his. I was giving in…
"You know, Isabelle," he said huskily, "You remind me so much of your mother it almost makes me wish that I was human again." His lips began to caress my neck, and I wondered what would happen if he bit me. Would I feel pain? Or would it be something like a gratifying sensation?
"But there is also your father's capricious spirit," he murmured in my ear. The count's hair brushed against my neck, instigating immediate pleasure that surged throughout my entire body. I closed my eyes, tired of keeping my guard up. It wasn't worth it. His seductive charm was too potent.
"Which I admire under some circumstances, detest under others," he continued, and I felt his arm wrap around me, drawing me up into his strong embrace.
"Exactly why do you detest his spirit, Vladislaus?" I purred contently.
The count stopped kissing my neck and inhaled sharply. "Say it again," he demanded.
"Say what again?" I said deliriously, furrowing my brow. I did not know what he was talking about.
"My name. It is the first time you have called me by my true name."
"Vladislaus?"
"Yes, my dear, yes," he replied, as he drew me closer to him. I looked into his eyes and saw that they no longer contained a monster, but a beautiful creature trapped in the shackles of Satan. If only he knew of the chains that ensnared him.
"How did you cope with it for 16 years? The scourging and the torture? Is it worth the pain just so you can have your spot next to the devil? Is it worth killing my father?" I said, my voice rising accusingly. My heart grieved for the pain he had endured and I could almost feel the agony that was searing through him like wildfire.
Vladislaus wrapped both of his arms around me and pulled me to his chest. "I thought so until you came along. Now I am not so sure." My jaw dropped and I stared at him stupidly, not believing what he had said.
He smiled, the first smile I had seen that did not have malice coated behind it, and kissed me. I let all rational thoughts leave my brain and returned the kiss, filling it with as much understanding and passion that I could muster. His lips were cold, but my warmth spread to him unchecked, and I could sense something awakening inside of him. He ran his left hand down the small of my back and I started to wonder what was driving him. Was it lust? Loneliness? Boredom? Love? There was no way, vampires could not love. They were hollow. Even if Vladislaus had a heart, like he had claimed, it was not beating. So did he love me? COULD he love me? Or was he just using me, like he had used Marishka, Verona, and Aleera? I was forced to remember that he was created and ruled by evil. But I didn't want to remember. I wanted to let all of that go and spend the rest of my life with him, regardless of how he felt about me. But the Grim Reaper had said…
I broke from his kiss and went over to a wall where a painting of Napoleon Bonaparte was. I needed to think, but I found it difficult when I could feel his eyes on me. My gaze traveled to the picture and I pretended to be studying it intently, but the answer was not hidden within the folds of Napoleon's tattered uniform. I had to figure it out myself.
"Isabelle," Vladislaus said as he slinked both of his arms around my waist. "I'm really not as evil as you might like to believe," he whispered seductively. "At least not towards you, anyway."
I turned around to face him, my expression incredulous. "That night. After the Grim Reaper. Why did you not try to seduce me then? Why did you wait till now? I was much weaker. I wouldn't have been able to fight you."
"Ah," he said while brushing a wisp of hair out of my eyes. "But you were not willing."
"But how do you know if I…" he stopped my mouth with another kiss, but this time, it was much more insistent. I gave in, not because I felt that I had to, but because I wanted to. I reprimanded myself for succumbing to temptation. I knew I would face retribution later.
Author's Note: Long chapter, yes, but there was no way I could make it shorter without ruining the story. PLEASE REVIEW and tell me what you think!