Chapter 3

Collinwood, Victoria's bedroom

A Nightmare in progress

In her exhaustion, Vicki felt her dream spiral down into a vortex of voices and words that were unknown to her. It was not so much a language barrier that she faced in this nightmarish world, as it was the guttural tones of those around her spoke as the reached forward to pull at her clothing, her hair and her body. She fought against the tug of their cold boney hands to run as far from the voices and things that were terrorizing her in this dream.

Running as hard and as fast as she could down that appeared to be a dark narrow hallway she could hear her heartbeat in her ears and the ragged breaths that followed her movement was catching up with her until she realized it was her own breath. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her mind was blind with absolute fear. Finally as she pushed forward she could see a doorway at the end of the hall. It held a aura of soft white light that seeped through the cracks and illuminated the area around the door's entrance.

Grabbing doorknob she threw it open, turned to peer behind her to whatever was there and when she turned back there was a shadowed figure outlined in the doorway. She screamed and then felt arms descend down around her shoulders and grab her close to his cold hard body. The feel of his body reminded Vicki of an embalmed dead person that had been put in the refrigeration unit to preserve the body prior to burial but for showing.

"Quiet child, calm yourself, doncha recognize your bunic or grandpapa?" He laughed and lifted her in his arms and hugged her close. "My nepoată long set apart from her family. You have come home at a perfect time. The tribes will be gathering and you will be the one that saves us from the evil one." He laughed and for the first time since this dream began she felt safe in the hold of this strange man with dark eyes and dark Romanic looks.

She knew she should recognize the term nepoată, she thought it meant granddaughter. Her voice cracked with her pent up emotions and the terror she had felt earlier. "Grandpapa?" Her voice was soft and sounded like a small child's voice looking to a man that would represent salvation in a sea of insanity. Lifting her body and carrying her much as he would a small child he carried her into the room closing the door with his foot behind him.

Vicki looked around the room and saw that it was a warm small comfortable room that held a single twin size bed, with a handmade quilt neatly laid over the bed. There was a cheerful fire burning against one wall and over the fire hung a cast iron pot with a wonderful aroma that drifted around the room to fill the senses. She heard her stomach growl and heard him chuckled. "Micuța mea, ți-e foame? " She smiled and nodded, looking around the room she saw a large full length mirror on a iron stand, she saw her reflection and she was shocked.

The reflection she cast was that of a little girl with dark hair and wide expressive grey eyes. She blinked and noted her hair had been braided into to tight plates on each side of her head and she wore a white gown trimmed in lace. He chuckled seeing her reaction to her reflection. ":Oh my sweet one, you will understand why it must be this way for this part of your journey and I need your undivided attention to what I am about to tell you."

Those eyes shifted from the image of her as a seven year old child to the man that sat down on the edge of the bed. "You are from a very long line of royalty my dear. Not the kind that is recognized as heads of state but those of a tribe of travelers that roam the world not staying long in one spot and must shake the dust from their feet once they are spoiled by something or someone in one spot. " He brushed her pigtail back gently pushed her back on the bed and covered her up to her chin.

"Tonight, Bunic is going to tell you a story that you must remember and carry with you for the rest of your life. It is the only way that you can save yourself and those that around bound to you through blood." He kissed her forehead then sat back and looked to the fire. "A long time ago, the people were happy in their home land of Transylvania, which has now become a part of Romania. We lived a happy life at the auspices of a kind man known as Vlad Tepes. He protected our people until his untimely death."

Victoria laid watching him with wide expressive eyes as he told his story and he seemed to loose himself in his tale. He was drifting back to a time when there was the original Johnny Romano. He was about to take her on a trip through the ages to show her how he had become the King of his people and all the Romney Tribes. His voice had taken on a darker tone as he began to recount the resurrection of Vlad Tepes also known as Vlad the Impaler.

Transylvania 1479

"Johnny Romano had been the head of his tribe for three years, he was about to be declared the King of all Romney Gypsies and he was feeling the weight of his office. He had been courting a village girl that had been part gypsy and part gorger. He was smitten her eyes were the color of storm tossed seas and her hair as dark as midnight and thick like a heavy blanket that fell to her waist and brushed against her hips when she danced or moved to the water fountain to get their daily ration of water for the house she worked in.

His heart had been heavy when his Prince Vlad had died. All had mourned his passing but had heard rumors that he had returned as he promised to drink the blood of his enemies. Many from the dark arts world had traveled to this village on the cusp of the Burgos Pass and close to the Castle that had held the body of their beloved Prince. He had not paid much attention to the talk as it was that talk from the hysterical gorgers that wanted your attention and then ply you with drink and take your coin or use you for services and not pay you.

Johnny this day watched for his lady love and noticed as the clock's hands moved to the appointed time of her arrival at the fountain that she had not arrived. He frowned and looked at the clock again and again no signs of Mila. Pushing from the side of the fountain he straightened his jerkin, scuffed his boots on the side of the fountains edge and walked to the house where he knew she worked. He was a handsome boy with bulging muscles, dark eyes that smolder with passion when he looked at his Mila and a thick mustache that hid a thin upper lip.

His poppa had a thin upper lip and hid it behind a thick mustache. He had told his son, to get respect wear your facial hair to hide what others might perceive as a weakness and that was a thin upper lip. Doffing his hat he walked to the rear of the stately home he knew belonged to a powerful and evil Count and knocked on the door. The fat cook that was gorger born answered the door with a surly snarl. "What you want you dirty gypsy?"

The insult was enough to cause Johnny to put the mark of the hex on the old hag. "Mila she did not come why?" The cook who was dirty and stained from plucking the feathers from the roasted duck she was preparing glared at him.

"She belong to the Count now, he take her to his bed and she is his, you need to go away to not be killed." To accent her words she took her finger and drew it across her throat like the count would slit his throat. Johnny glared and grew angry at the thought that the old man that was Count Andrea Petofi had bedded his intended and innocent Mila.

"Well the Count better pray that King Johnny don't hex his house and him." He turned to shake the dust of this house from his feet when he heard soft weeping coming from the stables. Watching over his shoulder the cook slam the door and heard her mutter and slide the bolt in place. Walking to the stables he found Mila broken and wearing torn clothing huddled in the straw crying. "Mila my love." He spoke softly gathering her to his body calming her trembling body.

"Oh Johnny! He was terrible! He was so dark and so mean and he . . . did things to me that. . . that." The memories were flooding her mind again and she began to sob. She clutched to his body holding onto him like a port in a storm of emotions. "Oh Johnny, I am not pure no more, I cannot give to you what was important for us to share in our love!" She looked up into his eyes and saw the anger and hatred burning in him and she read his shame. "You no longer care for me , your love for me has died!" She tried to pull from his hold wanting to run and end it all.

He held her all the tighter and then calmed her fears. "No my sweet love, nothing could kill the heart that beats for you. Come we will shake the dust from this place and we will be married and I will protect you." He lifted her and turned looking for the exit to the rear of this barn. Walking away from the Count's fine fancy home he disappeared into the woods where he found a stream and allowed Mila to bathe. Leaving her to her absolutions, he made a small fire and heard the horses and footfalls before he could react he felt the slam of a rifle butt against his head.

He awoke to the sounds of his beloved screaming for help and the laughter of the men that were holding her down for the Count. He laughed as she struggled beneath him, "You left me before I was done with you my dear no one leaves me." He once again slapped her hard across the face. Silencing her into a grudge filled raged. "That is better who can concentrate when you are always screaming although I think I liked how you struggled it made the conquest more exciting.

Mila laid perfectly still and waited for his grunting and abuse of her body to stop. When she no longer moved he lost interest, rising from between her legs he turned his back on her near naked body. "Throw her in the river with her boyfriend. Let the river take their bodies down stream. The wolves can pick their bones."

"My lords why not cut their throats first then throw them in?" One of the guardsmen laughed as he lifted Mila and found her body pliable and arousing to his own lust filled thoughts. Petofi turned and swung on the man. Sending him flying backwards dropping Mila with the force of the hit.

"NO ONE ELSE TOUCHES HER!" He growled and looked at the other five guardsmen that had accompanied him on his hunt. "DO not," he straightened his jacket and breeches and frowned. "Ever question my orders now do as I say, he is nearly dead from the beating he took from you. " Walking to his horse he mounted up and waited as they picked up Mila and then Johnny and threw them both into the water watching them bobble as the water took them and carried them downstream and out of sight.

Johnny prayed that Mila would hold on until he could go to her and grab her body. He found her as she bobbled for the third time dragging her up in his arms to hold her close to him. She coughed and spewed the water from her lungs and throat. Laying her head on his shoulder he floated with her until they were close to the edge of the river. Feeling the scrap of the shallow water under his body he sheltered her against him to protect her delicate skin from the abuse of the rocks and sand. Dragging them both to the shore he collapsed to his knees still holding Mila close.

Falling over her body he sheltered her against the sun and the elements as his own consciousness began to fade into a blanket of darkness." Bunic continued to describe in detail to the wide eyes fear filled child lying on the bed. She leaned forward and spoke in a bare whisper, "Bunic what happened next to King Johnny and Mila?"

Bunic chuckled, "Do not worry child more is to come, lie back and allow me to continue." He gently pushed her small body back smiled and brushed the hair over her shoulder. "You see King Johnny's reputation was widely known and he had gained the respect of a lot of the tribe." His eyes, which looked faded and watery, were now filled with emotion. "King Johnny had powerful allies and he was about to meet the one and only ally he would ever need to defeat the evil Count Petofi."

The child smiled and gave her rapt attention to the old man. "When King Johnny awoke he was surrounded by legs and feet, looking up he saw breather of his own. They lifted him and covered his woman and carried them both up a hill into the now growing shadows of the Castle of Dracula. With the setting of the sun, Johnny felt a chill pass through his body as the shadows of this dark place touched him. With the help of his people, he and Mila were taken inside the castle where Mila was given a room and clothing, her wounds dressed and her body fed.

Johnny Romano stood outside her door, his head resting against the door's facing, closing his eyes, in his heart he knew hatred and he wanted vengeance. In his heart he would sell his soul to make Petofi pay for what he had done to his precious Mila. From behind he heard the voice, old, filled with the wisdom of ages, cold filled with the air of a grave, and enticing filled with a need. "Johnny Romano, what is in your heart is in my mind. What is your wish Johnny Romano, what do you long for and would have done?" It was the sounds of an echoing whisper from long ago and the voice was as seductive as was the touch on his shoulder that caressed his shoulders.

Johnny shuddered at the touch, the voice was female the touch was feminine and the thoughts were locked to his. "Open your eyes Johnny Romano, open your eyes and turn to face me as a man as the great King of the people that you claim." Johnny knowing fear as deep as the Danube and as wide as the oceans lifted his head and turned slowly to look deeply into the eyes of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

"I want Petofi's death!" His words had been spontaneous and said without realizing he had spoken. He swallowed hard and then spoke again. "I want him to know the power is not his to abuse and that there are those of us of the nation that would curse him and his off spring for an eternity to come."

"Elena, bring King Johnny to me, I await him in my library." The words were spoken from the shadows that seemed to liquefy and colace to shift form and shape. The figure outlined in the shadow was bent, and appeared aged, his voice sounded tired but intrigued. The lovely woman smiled, and as she smiled her lips parted to display a set of sharp canine teeth.

"You heard the Prince, our Lord Vlad, come Johnny Romano, perhaps this night your wishes and desires will be answered. Do not worry for your Mila, she shall be safe as long as she stays in her room and rests this night." Her turn was effortless; she did not look behind her to see if he followed, she knew the shadows would push him forward if he hesitated. He did not. Johnny Romano was afraid of no man but this was no man that now beckoned to him. He watched, as she appeared to just glide gracefully down the long passage of the wide hallway of the castle.

Stopping at a thick wooden door, she pressed her fingertips that were long and slender and her nails equally long and sharpened to a point to make them appear like talons. Pressing those fingertips to the door it gave to her touch and she stepped aside. "Enter this room Johnny Romano and when you leave you will not be the same." She smiled again and there was an inner light that appeared to burn in her eyes. That pointed little tongue snaked out to lick her lips and glide over the pointed teeth that she bore.

Johnny Romano, King of all the gypsies was afraid of nothing but this night he would know fear and then he would know the power of the darkness that had called him to this very castle. The old man that told the story looked into the rapt attention filled little face before him. He smiled. "You are not afraid of this story are you unul mic prețios?" He watched her smile because he knew she liked it when he called her his little precious one. She shook her head and folded her tiny hands together over her chest and continued to watch her bunic.

Johnny Romano entered that room and it was dark and cold as death and reminded him of a tomb. In some respects it was a tomb, the tomb of his lord Prince Dracula. The man was bent with age, his eyes were filled with youth and passion while he studied the strapping young man before him. "Tell me, your Prince King Johnny what do you wish?" He fixed that bluish gaze on the man standing before him. What he saw was a fine specimen of gypsy make.

"I wish Count Petofi to know what it is like to feel alone, helpless and degraded, I wished that Count Petofi could feel the touch of my blade and know what it is to have fear and know how helpless he is because his power has no affect over me or mine!" Johnny had said this with all the hatred and anger that had risen in his soul and he looked into the eyes of death and was afraid. Not of death but the undead. He watched the Prince smile and with a nonchalant attitude spoke what he thought.

"Then make him feel fear Johnny Romano, make him feel helpless. You are gypsy you have the power to curse." He leaned back in his tall back chair, folded those fingers that looked more skeletal with skin stretched across dry parchment than fingers. The fingernails were yellowed with age and thickened but sharpened like claws. He studied Johnny and saw his shoulders slump.

"He is too powerful for any curse I could put on him my lord. He is so powerful that all fear him and he boasts that he is even more powerful than the legend that was Vlad Tepes, he claims to hold more power in his right hand than you hold in your body." Which Petofi had made those claims time and time again and it had not gone unnoticed by the one that had granted him his power. The Dark Lord smiled and once again this evening Johnny Romano witnessed the sharp teeth that glistened in the soft candlelight.

With a chuckle he spoke words that Johnny would never forget, "My dear King Johnny, I gave him those powers with the limitations that they would be found in that right hand he boasts so well of and about. All you need to do is capture him and not allow him to touch any with his right hand." The Dark Lord sat back bridged his fingertips together and studied the young gypsy king over the top of those fingertips. "Take the right hand Johnny Romano and strip the braggart, the monster of his power, let him know fear of all gypsy kind by placing him under a curse!"

"Many have tried to take his hand, but nothing will cut it off." Johnny ran a hand over his hair and took a ragged breath, "I would give my soul to take that hand from him, to make him pay for what he did to my Mila." He glanced up from the floor where he had looked while thinking about what the dark lord had said to him.

"What other would you give for the chance to take his hand and make him afraid of you and your line Johnny Romano?" The voice had grown soft and seductive with an almost purring sound as the question was asked. "Would you give your Mila's fist born to me to possess such a talent?"

Johnny's eyes shot up and he blinked, "What ever do you mean my lord?" He was half afraid this man knew so much and had eyes everywhere.

"She is already with child Johnny, will you give me her child?" He studied the sweat beads that laced his forehead and the swallow as he considered the words that had just been spoken.

"She carries the count's child in her womb?" Johnny's own voice had been choked with rage and the emotions that he wanted Petofi to feel, powerless to stop something. "This is also Mila's baby, how could I . . . "

The dark lord stood, "I want that child Johnny, give me that child and I will give you the power to pay back Petofi for all the wrongs he has ever committed on you and those you love." He leaned over the desk to pin that burning expectant gaze on Johnny.

"I will bring you the child at birth, be it boy or girl." Johnny was prepared to do what it took to protect his family and people.

"It is a girl, and not necessary but you will bring her to me on her sixteenth birth year to a place of my choosing." Johnny looked at the mesmerizing intent stare and smiled sticking out his hand he reacted in shock when the count thrust a blade he had drawn from under the desk into Johnny's right hand. Cutting his own hand he squeezed the blood to mingle with Johnny's and took a fingertip swirled the blood together. "Our blood has been mingled and now we are bonded and blooded to each other Johnny."

He withdrew the sharp blade from Johnny's palm, took the mingled blood from his fingertip and drew it across the bloodied palm. Johnny Romano watched as the blood that had been flowing now stayed and the cut miraculously closed to show only a slight scar and then again the scar was gone. "Tonight when you sleep, you will be given a blade. This is the sacred knife of my father's father. You will capture Petofi, you will bind him but all must take care and not allow him to touch bare skin. Once you have him bound, stretch his arm forward and bind his right hand to a table and then strike true with this blade. It will take his hand off at the wrist."

Johnny looked up from his healed palm and into the burning eyes of his dark master. "Enjoy your sixteen years with this child, because once she turns sixteen she belongs to me. As for the hand of Petofi, keep it safe and hidden from him for the rest of your life and the life of all your line. Once your line ends Johnny, the power of that hand shall return to Petofi. You hold his life in the palm of our bonded bloodied hand."

Johnny Romano did as his dark master bade and . . .

1969

Collinwood, Victoria's bedroom

"Vicki!" a loud knock resounded at the door. "Vicki? Are you in there?" David was pounding at the door and it startled Vicki from her odd dream sitting up startled she looked around and realized she had fallen asleep on her bed. Sliding from the bed she went to her door and unlocked it opening it up she looked at David with sleep filled eyes.

"David?"

"Aunt Elizabeth wants to see you in her room, she has some kind of surprise for you. Plus you gotta start getting ready remember we are having dinner with your dad and his kids tonight." He turned to walk down to his room paused and looked back at her and wanted to tell her about Cousin Henri but even thinking about it he felt his throat tighten down and knew he would not be able to speak as long as he tried to warn her about Henri. Sighing he slid into his room and glared at the door as he slammed it. "I am going to make him pay if it is the last thing I do!"