Chapter 16-Telling Dorian

"So, my dear, did you like Aida?" Vladislaus said as he ushered me through a chorus of sopranos. We were backstage, and he was intent on at least finding Gerald. But judging by the amount of people who were milling about behind the curtains, I doubted we would ever even catch a glance of them.

"I loved it. The acting and the singing were excellent. Not to mention the scenery. I really do wish I could meet Gerald or Dorian."

He smiled. "Well, as a favor for me, they are coming to the ball."

"Why do they owe you a favor?" I said excitedly as I thought I caught a glimpse of Dorian, but it came and went so quick I questioned what I had seen.

"I have been generous in terms of money, supporting the opera house and so forth. I also sponsor Gerald, and both of them are quite grateful." His eyes narrowed, like he had spotted someone, and he drug me around a gabble of young women, so that I was thrown right in front of Ramades himself. I struggled like mad to keep my clumsy body from stumbling into him.

"Beg your pardon," Vladislaus said, coming up behind me, "But might I have a word?"

Dorian Irving smiled, his emerald eyes glowing. "I am never too busy to converse with you, Vlad. But please, would you introduce me to this young woman that you seemed so intent on flinging in front of me? I think she deserves a right in this conversation." He spoke half-seriously, so Vladislaus was not angered by his tone. I blushed and tried to maintain eye contact with this charismatic man, but it was hard.

"This is Isabelle Van Helsing," Vladislaus said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "She is my niece."

"Pleasure to meet you," Dorian said politely, kissing my hand.

"Pleasure to meet you as well," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral.

"What brings you backstage, Miss Van Helsing? This is no place for a real lady."

My face flushed as I tried to stifle a smile. "I love operas, especially when they are sung in the original Italian. It's so much more pure that way, if you get my meaning, Mr. Irving," I said, my eyes locked on his. I was not going to loose this silent battle.

"Please, call me Dorian. It is what all my friends refer to me as," he said cockily.

"You have friends?" It was out before I could stop myself. I heard Vladislaus inhale sharply, but Dorian just smiled in his arrogant way.

"You're a charming one, Miss Van Helsing. Or would you like me to call you Isabelle?" His eyes glittered with humor.

I grinned. "You can call me Isabelle if you so choose."

"Then Isabelle it is. Tell me, what did you think of the opera?"

"I thought it was wonderful. Truly. And you did a fabulous job. I almost believed you were Ramades for a while, with all that makeup on. You played the part extremely well." I couldn't help but flatter him. He was young and in the prime of his life, with a staring role in a worldwide recognized opera. He was probably praised every waking moment, but I believed he deserved it.

"You speak too highly of my meager performance. It was only my second time in that role." He spoke like the compliment meant little to him, but I could tell he was pleased. His face was glowing.

"Regardless, I liked it. Not to mention you have a great voice. That must count for something."

Dorian broke his eye contact with me and turned to Vladislaus, whose expression was growing darker and more malicious by the second. "She is very sweet, your niece. I do pray you keep an eye on her. There is many a man who would be overjoyed to have her by his side."

Vladislaus's face turned sour as milk. I felt an insurmountable amount of pleasure at seeing him in such a detested position.

"I am fully aware of that, Dorian," he replied smoothly, his fake tone hiding bitter displeasure. "She..."

He continued to speak, but I didn't hear anything past "she." My head started to pound furiously and I rubbed my temples, trying not to convey to the two men that I was in pain. I was suddenly aware of how dry my throat was and I glanced around furiously for any sight of water. None.

My vision began to shake and I collapsed on the floor, staring up at two very concerned faces. Vladislaus was bending over me and Dorian was cradling my head in his lap, murmuring an old Celtic song. I focused my train of thought on the words and found that my breathing was slowing down. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of Dorian's consistent heartbeat, which lulled me into a dark and restless sleep.

Gabriel Van Helsing rode his exhausted steed hard, passing through bone chilling water like it was a hot spring. Something was dreadfully wrong, and the only thing that mattered now was the safety of his family. He said a silent prayer to God that his troublesome hunch was just him overreacting.

The night was still young when he raced up to his house and flung open the door, only to be frozen solid by the sight before his eyes.

Aurora's usual beautiful face now belonged to a snarling monster's. His beloved was a vampire. How could he have not known?

"NO!" He screamed, reaching for a small gun that he kept hanging over the wall. "What did you do with our daughter?"

Aurora cackled and rushed towards him, but then, suddenly, like she was stuck in between two physical identities, she morphed back into a mere young woman. "Oh, Gabriel, I couldn't... I tried not to... please, I never wished to harm anyone, especially Isabelle... I love you both so mu..." her last word was cut short, and she howled awfully before turning back into a vampire. Gabriel spotted Isabelle lying quietly next to her mother. She was still asleep. She was not harmed.

"Aurora, listen to me. Whoever is controlling you does not know the real you inside. I love you, Aurora. Please don't do this."

The vampire did not listen and flew at him, her fangs extended. Gabriel cocked his gun and fired, driving the silver bullet straight into her heart. She stopped dead in midair and plummeted to the ground, writhing in pain. She transformed back into the beauty she had once been, and then all that remained was ash.

Gabriel sunk to his knees and buried his face in his hands. He had killed her. Just as he had killed Anna. He wanted to run away, but the awakening wails of his daughter brought him back to reality. He crossed the floor and cradled the sobbing child in his arms.

"Dracula, you will pay..."

I shot up, drenched in sweat and tears. I was lying on a long velvet couch, and a soft wool blanket was draped over me. My body was trembling violently and I attempted to stop shaking. Dracula had possessed my mother to kill Gabriel, but in the end, the only thing that resulted from his greed was my mother's death. He had lied to me...

With one hand on the arm of the couch, I stood, careful not to trip over the assortment of shoes that were strewn about. It was then I realized I was in Dorian's dressing room. And Dorian was in it too. At once he rushed towards me and grabbed my arm to keep me from falling.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded stiffly and he handed me a cup of water. I thanked him and took a sip. The water soothed the dryness of my throat, but I was still thirsty. I drank the entire cup to rid myself of the feeling.

"Where is Dra- I mean, Vlad?" I inquired, after he had sat me down back on the couch. I rubbed my temples absentmindedly.

"In Bucharest somewhere. I think he went with Valdemar to the local tavern." Dorian's emerald eyes were laced with concern as he watched me massage my head. "Are you sure you're all right? What happened?"

"I don't know." I closed my eyes and sought darkness. But the only thing that met me where the bright torches and lights of the dressing room. I sighed and looked over at Dorian. He was studying me intently.

"Your uncle seemed worried," Dorian said in an attempt to break the awkward silence. "He was quite pale."

He can't get any paler than he already was before, I thought, but I did not say anything out loud. Dorian didn't know what Vlad was. Maybe it should stay that way.

"Dorian, can you take me to the stables? I wish to go home." I stood to convey to him that I did not want to waste any time.

"Why don't you just wait for Vlad..."

"No," I interrupted. "I want to leave NOW."

"Very well. Are you strong enough to walk?" He inquired. He was stroking the fine dark hairs of his beard thoughtfully.

Yes."

I rode Jovan hard towards Budapest. We were taking the main road, so that if my father passed by, I would hopefully see him. How I had gotten out of Bucharest without Dracula's knowledge was a mystery to me, but I felt that God had granted me a miracle. I sent him a silent prayer of thanks.

The night was old, but Jovan was as fresh as ever. His eyes were bright and with each stride he seemed to grow stronger and stronger. The only sound I heard were his hoof beats, light and melodious on the soft patches of earth and dust.

I wondered what Dracula would do when he found Jovan and me gone. Would he throw a fit and come after me? Or would he wait silently in the castle, testing his luck that I did not meet Gabriel on the open road? The first theory seemed much more likely.

"Run, Jovan, run," I whispered, intertwining my fingers in his luxurious mane. The stallion snorted and lengthened his gallop. The moon hung over us, following us in our exodus, riding on our tail. Jovan acknowledged her challenge with a toss of his forelock and then we were off, racing the moon and her soft light that could grace even the darkest corners of the world.

We passed by flower mills, small cottages, sometimes the occasional graveyard. But Jovan never once faltered; his strength was interminable, and I clung to his mane, tired, thirsty, and heartbroken. Dust from the ground stuck to my sweaty face. Jovan's eyes peered out into the darkness, and I got the feeling that he could see very well in the dark, better than a cat, even.

Unaware of my rambling thoughts, my mind eventually drifted to Vladislaus. Thinking about him was painful, for all he had ever brought me was pain. Yes, there had been a couple seconds of pleasure, but he always ended up hurting me in the end, mentally and/or physically. I wanted to find my father, to tell him I was all right. To tell him I was sorry. Sorry about everything.

On the horizon, the moon began to make her descent, giving way to the much brighter sun. But Jovan was still racing her, and he continued to race her until the last of her light disappeared and was replaced by a strong ray of sunlight. Solstar was rising.

He broke to a trot and shook his head, raising his front knees to his chin. I smiled at his childlike antics and stroked his neck. He wasn't even sweating. But I knew he must thirst for water, and several minutes later, I spotted a well twenty yards from the main road. We broke for it.

The water was cold, and had a hint of bitterness, but it cleared my mind so I could think properly. Jovan did not drink from the well. I tried to coax him to, but he only moved his muzzle and was content to watch me. Not understanding, I remounted and we were on our way again.

That's when I realized we were being followed by a person on horseback. At first I suspected Vladislaus, but then Jovan would have sensed his master's presence and insisted on returning to him. Also, Dracula would not ride a horse when he could fly. So who was it?

I nudged Jovan in the ribs and he quickened his pace to a slow moving canter. He loped leisurely, with no concern for our stalker. This calmed me a tiny bit, but I kept looking back every so often. Whoever it was, he was gaining steadily.

It was way into the middle of the afternoon when I finally could make out the features of our follower. It was Dorian, sitting astride a dark brown horse. He was waving frantically, and I caught some broken bits of what he was saying. He wanted us to stop. I knew that was unwise, for Dracula was probably pursuing me, but he looked so desperate I reined Jovan into my hand and the majestic black stallion halted with a snort.

"What do you want?" I cried, turning around in the sidesaddle.

"To ask you where you are going. When you took this road instead of going back to the castle where your uncle lives, I knew something was wrong," he yelled back. He had moved his horse into a gallop and he was approaching at an extremely fast speed.

"Why are you spying on me?" I asked as he drew closer.

He brought his horse to a halt beside Jovan and wiped his brow. "I am concerned for you. You still don't look that well. I don't want you falling off or becoming sick."

Jovan whinnied and pawed the ground. He was upset that Dorian believed I could fall off of him. To calm the stallion down, I said, "Jovan is a trustworthy steed, Dorian. He would never dismount me."

"Regardless I had to check. You look more than ill, Isabelle. There is something bothering you. Will you please tell me?" His eyes were earnest and his voice was pleading. "I want to help."

You can't help me. No one can help me. Still, it would feel nice to let someone else in on my dilemma, someone I could confide in. But I couldn't let him try to assist me. I wouldn't risk putting an innocent and unsuspecting life in danger.

I sighed and loosened my hold on the reins. "Will you promise not to tell a single soul?" My eyes watered, but I was careful to blink the tears away unobtrusively. I missed my father...

He nodded. "I promise. Please, I just want to know what you are running away from."

My breath caught. If I told this young singer, what would happen? Maybe it was better that he didn't know. But as I sat there pondering, a soft, gentle wind seemed to buffet me, coaxing me to tell him. He caught my gaze and I knew there was no turning back.

I took a deep breath, stared him straight in the eyes, and told him everything.

Author's Note: Perhaps not the wisest move, but Dorian is a good guy at heart. I am leaving for Michigan on Saturday, August 7th, and I am coming back in a week, so this is the only chapter for a while. Enjoy. And don't forget to review! :)