Chapter 7
Every resident of the household had given what they could, to the point that most were swooning and pale. Grooms, maids, the butler...the only ones that hadn't given blood yet were Arthur and Sam. Arthur, because it was likely they'd need him to kill the monster. Sam, well, if the vampire took his blood, it wouldn't be via a needle and a bowl.
Shuddering, dizzy himself from the sheer quantity of blood he'd given in his desperation, Abraham navigated the stairs back to the basement carefully. The full bowl in his hand couldn't be spilled. Seward was finishing the last few blood draws upstairs and would be bringing down the second container of blood shortly. That one was no bowl, but an enormous stein. As dizzy as they were, neither was willing to risk an open-topped container. Drinking water, trying to restore his lost fluids, and Abraham had spilled as much as he'd gotten in himself.
But he'd get this down to that damned monster, and hope that, somehow, at some time, it would give them the chance to get Sam free. For now...it kept his son alive that little bit longer.
x x x
Tottering. The man was tottering. Dracula nearly laughed in delight at the extent to which Van Helsing had drained himself in his attempt to save his son, but settled for a wide and mocking grin. "It's about time. I'd thought you were feeding your son to me deliberately. It appears I was wrong, it was simply your incompetence again." The bowl was carefully scooted towards him, Abraham again on his hands and knees, and Dracula lifted it with far more decorum this time, able to easily unlatch the lid himself and peer inside.
Full, just as full as before. No longer starved senseless, he took his time with his meal. So odd...so many mixed flavors of blood. He'd never had that before. Always, it had been the blood of a single person at a time. This...there was a young lad in it...and an older woman...and a myriad of other flavors. One of them was a drunk, the bite of alcohol was faint but present. Fascinating...and so very novel! A stray thought went through his head...he might well be the first vampire to dine so! Far too soon, the bowl was empty, and he gave it several thorough swipes with his tongue.
It was nearly enough, but only nearly. It was certainly as much blood as he could have gotten out of Sam. And now, he'd managed to get that blood, keep the boy alive as a taunt to his father, reduce Van Helsing to tottering weakness, enrage Arthur...oh, such a pleasant evening! And blood from a bowl, an entirely new experience. A satisfied grin at the situation split his face.
"Still not enough, human. I'd almost think you were simply attempting to look like you were trying to save your son, instead of actually doing so. Your son has more blood in him than you've provided to me, and-" A clatter at the top of the stairs stopped his taunt, red eyes snapping down the hallway, narrowing as he waited to see who it might be. Seward had not returned with Abraham, was he planning something?
Ignoring the men, his lax grip tightened on the boy and his lip lifted, showing the very tips of his teeth. A faint growl at their duplicity rumbled in his chest, audible only to Sam...and then died when Seward appeared around the corner, a tall beer stein held tightly to his chest. "Perhaps you aren't a complete failure after all. No, nevermind. It isn't you that's saving your child at this point, it's John Seward." With a dismissive glance at Van Helsing, Dracula locked his gaze on Seward. "Now, what have you brought me? Hmmm?"
"It's the last of the blood, all we can get so very late at night." Seward's voice was a tired rasp, and the man staggered as he passed the tall mug to Abraham. Abraham struggled a bit, clearly quite weak, and it was with an amusing amount of effort that the container was pushed to Dracula. Quite amusing...the man was truly drained! But a bit nerve-wracking at the fear of any of that blood being lost, and he leaned forward to swipe it from Abraham, slightly squishing the child in the process.
Sam's grunt of protest was missed as he flipped open the top and peered inside. Not full, no...but well over half-way. He'd be nearly full himself after this drink, it was more than he thought they'd be able to obtain, but there was no purpose in telling them so. Leaving them to wonder if it would be enough, he hefted the great stein in his hand, pouring it carefully into his mouth, one red eye watching the closely past the curve of the mug.
Had he been given this first, instead of the bowl, he likely wouldn't have been able to lift it. It was an ornate beast, carved and decorated pewter and brass, clearly meant more for display than use...but they'd obviously been far too frantic to find any other closed container. A set of bottles would have been a wiser choice. Frantic, frightened, foolish humans... But still, this was acceptable. And the blood was just as filling as before. Much cooler, from the metal container, the flavors as rich and varied as he could hope. No alcohol, but tobacco flavored this, and the odd rich tang of a pregnant woman, the liquid wateriness of the elderly...he'd have to remember this. Combining blood, from such different sources...delightful. Truly.
The reduction in hunger let him savor and appreciate this fine meal. If only for this, it had been worth the effort of tormenting the people, of delaying his meal on the lad. The terror and horror and despair had been wonderful, though, and it was with great good humor that he cleaned the last traces from the stein and beamed at them as they stood, pale and shaking and hopeful and despairing, waiting for his answer.
"So close, so very close. Almost enough. Almost. But not quite. I want more blood, you haven't given me what you promised me. Not quite. And so Sam will have to give me the bit that you've shorted me. Such a poor parent. It wouldn't have been that much more...but you just wouldn't do it to save Sam." He really didn't want to bite the boy...he wanted Arthur as drained and exhausted as the other two. And they didn't disappoint him.
"WAIT! PLEASE!" Abraham's shriek was a bit breathless, the stresses and blood loss of the evening taking their toll. Eyebrow cocked, a condescending look in his face, Dracula waited...making it obvious with body language that it was only a brief wait, and that his teeth would be in Sam's neck very shortly.
"Arthur..." Abraham shot a wild look at the man, but before he could continue, Arthur was nodding and rolling up his sleeve.
"Of course, you don't even need to ask." Seward vanished momentarily, returning with the needle and a short hose, then tying a bit of cloth about Arthur's arm. Intriguing. While he'd taken plenty of blood himself, he'd never seen blood drawn by a human.
This was definitely a night of firsts!
"Sorry, Arthur. This needle is a bit dull, it's why we weren't using it." Arthur nodded, and Dracula watched the needle dive into the skin. At an angle? How odd...but it worked, for the blood came pouring out of the short hose and into the bowl. Hot, so hot, fresh...well-fed or not, he was drooling again, swallowing loudly. He made certain it was loud, the sound carrying in the enclosed space, amplified from the rock walls, and causing them to cringe. Still, blood only flows so fast...and time ticked by. Arthur was looking well and truly drained when Seward finally removed the needle. Abraham pulled the bowl from them, pushing it towards him.
A sniff...ah. Delectable. And a sip...different, when from only one person. But good, simply more like what he was accustomed to, a pure flavor. Sip after sip, it was gone far too soon but he had to admit to himself he was most definitely satisfied. Not full, for he could always, always eat more. But satisfied. No longer ready to bite the child or the men. And he grinned up at them.
"Success. Surprisingly so, with Abraham involved...but success."
"You'll let him go?" Abraham's quiet plea was rewarded with a shocked look, mocking the man clearly.
"Let him go? Why would I do such a silly thing. I said I would not bite me if I was fed. And I won't. Your child will not be a ghoul or a child of mine. He'll simply be dead." Said with a reassurring tone, but a vicious grin stretching his cheeks wide, Dracula released the boy's arm only to place both hands tight on his head. One quick twist, and the neck would be broken...and from the looks on their faces, the men were well aware of this.