Uh, please don't eat me. I know I told you I'd have this up by last Saturday but...I lied. FORGIVE ME FAITHFUL READERS! I am not worthy... ; )
SHOUTOUTS FOR THIS CHAPTER::: Nienna Simarwen, ForeverACharmedOne, Elwyndra, Gem Of The Stars, Shoysrock, violetrose1, Shorty1975, VintrageLyre, and my newest reviewers -- xxblueeyesxx & SpyOfHogwarts!!! YAY! plus my ever-faithful cheryljulia, TopGallant, and Anon E. Mouse (whom I am looking forward to her review; I think she's saving up till I give her an absolutly fimonimal chapter)
Enjoy. I apologize for my inconsistancy. Life is stressful...but hey when is it not?
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CHAPTER 18
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Dracula sat comfortably in his great oak chair that sat against the back wall in one of the lower parlors as his high bloods discussed the hunt in hushed tones around him. His eyes were filled with irritation and the goblet in his hand threatened to shatter under his iron grip. This rebel lord was an irritation he did not need! His plans for invading Conrad's kingdom should take first priority in his mind and now this pathetic excuse for a 'lord' dared to challenge him! Dracula's scowl became even more pronounced as he brooded; he had met many rebel 'lords' over the years, each thinking they had what it took to take him down…each failing miserably with Dracula's hands around their insignificant necks. This one was no different.
The style was a bit more refined, but the tactics were the same. Stealth interrupted by bursts of brute force; when will they learn that I always win, no matter the battle strategy?
"Gavin," he said suddenly, breaking his stony silence. The king's first lord looked up. "I need this rebel taken care of before I move west with the army; you will make sure he causes us no more problem," Dracula stated, the look in his eyes flashing dangerously.
The high lord nodded his understanding and Dracula stood; they had arrived just as the sun's rays started to peak over the horizon before retreating to the lower chambers to discuss battle plans; it had been a long day and he yearned to slip within the cool confines of his coffin. Materializing out of the chamber Dracula returned to his bedroom.
The first thing he noticed was the chill to the air and he saw that the terrace doors were cracked open; the cold air rushing in from outside. Walking over he heard for the first time the weak patter of a heartbeat that was coming from the balcony. Quickening his step Dracula reached the terrace doors and threw them open, the foreign feeling of alarm shooting down his spine as he spied the limp dark haired figure curled in a ball on the stone floor of the balcony. In a flash he was bent down beside the mortal, anger surging through every fiber of his being; if she died he would have Caliburn's head. Gently he brushed back her hair and surveyed the damage; her lashes were drawn together, shutting her eyes from the world but they fluttered every couple seconds as if she was still fighting for consciousness - the hand that clenched her neck was covered in blood. That bastard bit her! Dracula's mind roared in outrage as he brought his clenched fists to his sides in an effort to control himself; that honor should have been mine. Blood now stained half of the once soft, white material of the mortal's nightgown, but besides that, she was trembling violently, although from the pain or cold, Dracula was unsure.
Forcing himself he to be gentle when all he really wanted to do was smash something, Dracula bent down and gathered the curled form of the woman securely in his arms. Immediately a small sound of distress slipped out of her chapped lips and her body arched away but the king didn't so much as glance at her as he tightened his hold and strode back inside the chamber – the balcony doors slamming shut of their own accord in his wake. A glance to the fireplace had the slowly dying embers dancing to life in a roaring orange flame, cackling merrily in the silent chamber as the Count sat down on the side of the great bed, the semi-conscious woman huddled against his chest. Brushing her matted hair back Dracula gripped her clenched hand and tried to move it away from her neck to see the bite, but the mortal only curled tighter into a ball and refused to relax her hand.
"It's okay darling, I'm not going to hurt you," he soothed in a slightly strained voice before pulling her hand away forcibly and instead letting it curl around his neck as he shifted her, laying her head firmly on his shoulder and allowing her legs to dangle freely over the side of his lap, "I only want to see…" Tilting her jaw up he scowled at the duel bite marks that marred the smooth skin of her alabaster neck, feeling a fresh wave of rage wash over him. The bites were deep with significant bruising already appearing around the puncture wounds – blood continued to trickle ever so slightly down her neck. Dracula inhaled sharply as the pungent smell of the sweet blood once again assaulted his senses and he clenched his jaw as he passed his hand over her neck, focusing intently on healing the gaping holes and watching with satisfaction as they slowly shrank in size before disappearing completely.
He felt the huntress relax, if only slightly, as the pain receded however her left arm was still clenched tightly to her chest and the other wrapped securely around his neck as if he was the last thing she had left to hold onto in this bleak world. Suddenly he noticed the corner of a scrap of parchment grasped tightly in her fist as she held it against her breast in a death grip. Prying her fingers open Dracula snagged the crumpled parchment and brought her other arm up around his neck as he absently rubbed her back with one hand while smoothing the paper open with the other.
A sweet maiden with sweeter blood, I can see why you let her warm your bed old bat; quite the tasty little morsel. Perhaps next time you will protect your possessions more carefully, or you may just find yourself without any at all. I let you keep her today, it will not be so the next time. I warned you once, do not underestimate me.
Should you wonder my name, now that I have your attention, you need only listen to your pet. She will be crying my name out in her sleep for nights to come. Do tell her I enjoyed our conversation. Till next time Count.
Eyes pulsing with an energy that made the very air crackle with power, Dracula clenched his hand so hard around the balled up letter that when he opened his palm the only remains were tiny particles of the arrogant vampire's parting words. How dare he! Part of his anger came directly from the rebel's words,but the rest of it stemmed from the fact that the now familiar heavy handwriting had been written not in ink, but in the same alluring blood that stained the neck of his pet's nightgown. His eyes scanned over her body and Dracula spotted a fresh wound that was still bleeding slightly beneath the front of her collar. His hands still shaking in suppressed rage the vampire was rougher than he meant to be as he tugged down the neckline of the mortal's gown and felt an uncharacteristic pang of regret shoot through him as she instinctively shied away from his violent movements. Gentling his touch Dracula could only radiate the anger as he coaxed the material down and spied the spot directly above her left breast where the insurgent had repeatedly cut into her skin with the sharp point of his talon as he composed his letter.
The cut was deep and in the obvious shape of a "J" - Dracula could only wonder what kind of impact the experience would leave on his pet. He probably traumatized the girl, he thought scowling and lightly brought his hand to cover the raw skin as he healed it. I'd rather be damned a thousand times over before I let another man mark what is mine. His suspicions were confirmed when he made contact with her skin and she once again flinched away from his touch, her arms tightening ironically enough around his neck even as her body arched further away from him, a soft whimper of fear escaping from her lips.
Satisfied that all her physical wounds were taken care of, Dracula let power run through his hands and immediately the tattered, bloody remains of her nightgown disappeared and were replaced with a cool, silk nightdress of dark green. She should always wear green, he thought remembering her eyes. He then smoothed a hand down her hair, the blood disappearing and the locks returning to their silky texture once more. The gesture seemed to calm the now-silent huntress and he felt her arms relax a fraction, her constant trembles lessening with each pass of his hand; little did he realize that the action seemed to have the same effect on him as his anger was soon forgotten and he simply watched the woman slip into a deeper sleep that was free from pain and fear.
Careful not to jolt her he smoothly leaned back into the bed; gently fitting the mortal against the curve of his body and smirking slightly when he felt her hands softly come to rest on his chest. Her sigh was almost inaudible as he brought the sheets up to her chin and turned her head more fully into the protection of his chest. Such an easily pleased creature, he thought as he gazed down at the chestnut crown of her head; had it not been a mere few hours ago that she'd slapped him for taking what was not his? But you are mine little mortal, he thought silently before scowling as he thought about the self-proclaimed rebel lord touching her; he had gone to far this night. He had insulted a king, trespassed onto his domain, and toyed with his pet; Dracula would not stand for it.
Suppressing the anger that threatened to bubble over at the mere thought of the morning's visitor, Dracula instead made his clothes disappear and grinned slyly as he tucked the now-warm mortal closer to his naked form. He would deal with the rebel come morning, he thought, but for now he was content enough to lie with the rare pleasure of a now steady heartbeat and warm limbs against his dead body.
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She was in a grand ballroom with lights seemed to flash and glitter with each movement made as she spun in a circle taking it all in. Beautiful couples danced gracefully around her and the sweet sound of music filled the air as everything sparkled with grandeur. Suddenly the air seemed to become chilled, dark and thick with a new presence as the music changed from sweeping melodies to a haunting tune. Fleur spun desperately around looking for the light, but it was gone, only the forbidding sense of danger was left in it's wake. A sudden unnatural wind swept through the ballroom and a figure stepped out from the crowd; he was of an average height and on the heavy side with thick arms and big hands. His dark copper beard hid the permanent frown Fleur knew graced his face but nothing could mask the hate in his eyes; hate for her. Fleur took a step back as he approached only to bump into someone.
Spinning around she came face to face with a tall man who had golden hair and looked at her with eyes so like her own, yet so strikingly different. They lacked warmth and understanding; Fleur unconsciously took a step back from the man's gaze as he watched her with an expression one would reserve for examining a poisonous bug: speculation, wariness, and a degree of disgust. Fleur slowly retreated before feeling a stone pillar against her back, preventing any further escape attempts.
Three more figures emerged from the crowd - each so different in their own respects and yet it seemed ironic that Fleur's subconscious should group them together. The youth with sable hair and hazel eyes that once looked at her with adoration now stared at her with frustration and rage in his eyes that sparkled with a hint of malice and lust. The ebony haired vampire walked beside the young man – his smile taunting and manipulative and those azure eyes emanating centuries of power and knowledge.
The five men approached Fleur from all sides and she felt panic rise in her chest as they cornered her in.
"Don't worry lovely," the last figure sneered, pushing back his hood to reveal striking platinum blonde hair and a handsome face, "This will only hurt for a moment…or two."
"I promise you'll enjoy it," the vampire king drawled.
"Don't bother," said the hazel-eyed youth with eyes full of contempt, "she'll only tease you. Dangle herself in front of you and then run away like the whore and coward she is."
"Indeed, a whore. So much like her slut of a mother," scorned the bearded man, "The resemblance is so clear; a relief only you received her bad blood."
"Quite," agreed the tall blonde man, "So fortunate she only passed on that accursed mark to you dear sister. I doubt my subjects would follow me should I have Betrayer blood running through my veins."
"…Mm…Betrayer blood; a delicacy you must taste my king…"
"…I'm looking forward to it..."
"…Damn harlot..."
"…Teasing wench of a woman..."
"…traitorous bitch, not even worth the effort…
"…if it wasn't for your father…"
"…so sweet, rolls off your tongue…"
Fleur felt a cold swear break out as terror gripped her insides in a vice-like hold. She bolted before they got any closer but seemed to run in slow motion as her stalkers effortlessly caught her and began tossing her roughly between them in a circle. Each statement brought a memory, and at each memory a sharp pain seemed to shoot through her, slowly wearing down the emotional walls she'd built over the years. The men who haunted her sleep all stood in this circle, callous remarks hurting like slaps to the face and chilling threats sending her heartbeat galloping. She couldn't get out…she couldn't escape…
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Dracula woke yet again to the familiar erratic race of the mortal's heart, his eyes opening in habit as he searched for her form, knowing all too well he would find her curled up, her legs bent towards her chest and her arms wrapped securely around whatever she could find – a pillow, a blanket, even herself. Pushing himself up to rest on his elbow, Dracula gazed across the bed and found the mortal huddled in the furthest corner – today's victim being a large down pillow she had clasped to her chest.
Reaching over he pulled her tense form closer. She shouldn't even be dreaming, he thought bitterly, with that much blood loss she should be unconscious or in a deep sleep. Not fidgeting around all night and having those damned dreams. Against his will, he remembered the rebel's words about her calling out his name in her sleep and Dracula was suddenly thankful she hadn't spoken yet tonight; he didn't think he could control his rage if she called out that dissenter's name before she called out his. One of the many rules of the vampire king's chambers; the only name any female called out in her sleep had better be his or there would be serious consequences.
Leaning over her sprawled figure Dracula did the only thing he'd yet done to soothe the huntress; he stroked her hair. Softly, and careful not to touch her in any other way, he caressed the cool tresses and smirked in triumph as the mortal relaxed under his ministrations, her breathing having slowed down and her dreams finally dissipating. Dracula felt like a king; or at least more of one.
Laying back down Dracula slipped once again into sleep; this time with a satisfied smirk on his face instead of an irritated scowl.
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"I'll have no excuses!" Dracula roared at his alpha leader early the next day, his wrath and temper returning stronger than ever and finding an outlet on the unfortunate werewolf, "Please Caliburn, remind me what I specifically ordered you to do it."
Caliburn struggled not to shrink under his master's furious gaze; he felt guilty enough about not being there for the human when she'd been attacked, having the Count rant at him about idiocy and noncompliance was just what he needed to top it all off. "I was to befriend her—" he began when Dracula interjected.
"Ah! The single thing you have done so far. A bit too well for my liking," he added, his eyes still reeling with irritation, "and next?"
"I was to extract any and all useful information from her," Caliburn continued.
"Yes," Dracula continued with a slight sneer to his tone, "useful information. So far all you have to report back to me is that she is a very cautious and contact-shy woman who likes gardens and has probably had a hard childhood; save me your sentiments Caliburn. I want battle plans, human strategies she may have overheard while at court, weak points in Conrad's defense, something worth reporting! If you do not have something of substance to report back to me when I return from this rebel hunt with Gavin you will be relieved of your duties and I will just have to find someone else to get the information, and trust me, the next time we will be using a much more direct approach."
Caliburn inwardly cringed; Dracula's direct approach usually consisted of many hours of pain under Gavin's personal supervision. "I mean no disrespect my lord," the alpha leader interjected, "but I don't understand why you're asking me to find these things out. Could you not simply enter her mind and find them yourself?" Plus spare me the pain of using her like this and hear the pain of being forced to betray her kingdom.
Dracula sighed with resigned annoyance, how many times did he have to explain this? "Do you know how many memories a person can hold over the course of their life?" he asked exasperatedly, "trillions of trillions if not more; the information I got out of her yesterday was general – her parent's names are things that have been repeated in her brain for years and years. Specific memories, like the night in the parlor, I could find because I already knew when it occurred. So unless you give me some kind of date or specific time period; it's like searching the ocean for a single specific fish; there are just too many memories. That is why I ordered you to befriend her, make her trust you, let her consol in you, and then use her!"
Caliburn could have flinched at the crude words that left his master's mouth and he felt a sting of guilt deep in his chest; he hated to use the mortal like this, but his master was his master and duty was duty. Nothing stood in the way of that.
"Now," Dracula continued, "what was the final thing I ordered you to do?"
"Watch over her," Caliburn replied, the burn of guilt flashing once again through him.
"Exactly," the vampire king replied, "and you failed me yesterday. You will be punished." Caliburn nodded obediently. "Go down to the dungeons and tell Gavin to give you forty lashes, and when he's done kindly inform him that you will give him a hundred lashes – for touching my property. Is that understood?"
Caliburn swallowed and gave the master a quick 'yes milord' before bowing deeply and retreating respectfully from the room. He wondered vaguely what Gavin could have done to put the master in such an ill mood.
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For three tiresome and gloomy days Fleur stayed bedridden under the specific orders of Rumus and the ever watchful eyes of Caliburn. Her meeting with the rebel lord had left her weak and, against her will, more shaken than she'd ever admit and her nights continued to be filled with dreams that sent the cold rush of fear coursing through her veins. Sometimes memories would morph together; the pulsing eyes of the Count with the blond hair of the dissenter, Damien sinking his fangs into her in the cave, the parlor scene replayed but this time Gavin using his claws to compose a letter in blood – Fleur unconsciously brought a hand up to her chest in chilling remembrance. Sometimes she couldn't even separate the memories, all she knew was she woke sweaty, panting, and shaking to an empty chamber.
Caliburn had informed her that Dracula had left with Gavin the morning after her attack and although one would never call her grateful to the Count; the fact that the rebel would soon be taken care of sent a feeling of relief through her. Although the feeling was quickly replaced with a new sense of anxiety when he told her the Count would be returning within a fortnight. Fleur had no doubt he could be just as horrible if not worse than the rebel should he so choose. She could feel her chest tightening when ever the memory of the balcony visit was brought up and although Caliburn had pressed her to talk about; she didn't think she could bear having to relive it if she was forced to tell anyone.
Caliburn had been slightly put off when she blatantly refused and Fleur felt a twinge of suspicion about why he was pursing the issue so much; usually he sensed when she didn't want to speak of things and respected her decision but this time…it was different and Fleur couldn't tell why.
No, she would keep the details of the rebel's visit a secret; no one needed to know the horror of being feed off of, the pain as three-inch long fangs sunk sickeningly into her neck, nor the helpless that assaulted her as she felt the life slowly being drained from her body.
No one needed to know how after he'd finished feeding he'd sat and taunted her in her weakened state as his talon repeatedly cut into her soft flesh as he composed his letter or how he'd whispered sick plans of death in her ear as his eyes flashed with such brutal ambition it scared her.
But most of all, no one needed to hear his detailed plans of how he planned to kill the Count, and bath in his blood as he listened the screams of the high bloods, or what he planned to do to her when the master was gone and how he would be looking forward to hearing her screaming his name – Julius. No, no one needed to know, no one would understand, and Fleur was scared to even wonder; would anyone even care? And so it stayed her secret and her secret alone.
That end bit I added at the last minute so I know there are probably a ton a mistakes in it. I promise I'll have Nienna attack it as soon as I find the energy to send it to her.
TEASER TIME::: well, to be honest I don't know where I want to go from here...but that's the way this entire story has been wirtten so I suppose I'll just keep-on and see what happens. I think we may have a suprise when Dracula comes home, maybe a vampire weakness. I may introduce a new character but I'm not totally sure, it seems I already have a lot of my own characters in this story but I do believe every tale needs at least one mischevious character (and no, Gavin does not count as mischevious, he's evil and curious and malicious and unwillingly cold) and I find myself lacking cool female characters (p.s.- I may have Gwen play some kind of role int he future...not sure yet. you may or maynot like her.) PLus what did Drac do with Julius?!? dun-dun-dun-duuuuuun. And I think it's finally time we move the army out...
REVIEW PLEASE! EVEN IF IT'S SHORT AND TO THE POINT IT MEANS ALOT TO ME!!!
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