Diaries Of The Family Dracul - Lord Of The Vampires Part 5

It was already a contented captive, even before Elisabeth bent down to embrace me. I was sated with blood, dreamy and dazed by the thrill of feeding. But when she pressed her mouth against mine and I felt her tongue work hard against my lips, savouring the blood there, I realised that my hunger had been appeased-but not my physical desire.

Was it the forbiddenness of our love that filled me with a hotter fire than I have ever known? I reached up to press a palm against her back, another against the nape of her neck, and pulled her down upon me. It was then I experienced another revelation: that today, for the first time in my eighty years of existence, I had experienced love as it was meant-- warm flesh against warm flesh.

She kissed my face, my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, my belly, using her tongue to clean each area with sensual, deliberate grace. Then she rose and reached for the Englishman's wound again; once more, she dipped her fingers in his blood.

I cried out softly as she (my hands tremble so at the memory, I can scarce write) put those bloodied fingers betwixt my legs, and wiped the blood at the place where the Englishman had so recently been. Then with those fingers she entered me, and bent low again to lick away the blood.

I remember little else except for the instant I fell out of the world into that great and glorious abyss of pleasure, so distantly aware of my own screams it seemed as though someone else had made them.

Yet as I lay, eyes closed, undone by delight, I did hear the sensuous cries of another: Elisabeth, my darling Elisabeth, who lay beside me. I smoothed damp curls back from her forehead until she recovered and opened blue, blue eyes to smile at me.

I leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Then we two entwined our arms and held each other for a long silence.

At last, I have what Vlad long ago promised me but never gave: an eternal lover.

When finally we rose, I looked down at the sleeping Englishman, and saw that the wounds inflicted upon his shoulder had entirely healed.

Elisabeth took me out into the sitting-room, where a half-dozen large trunks sat beside another half-dozen suitcases, and opened one. For herself, she took out a stunning silk dressing-gown of pale yellow edged with broad eggsh.e.l.l lace; for me, a dressing-gown of electric-blue satin trimmed with black velvet. Together we returned to my chambers. At the open door, I stopped, and exclaimed in dismay: "But Dunya! We have forgotten about poor Dunya!"

Elisabeth patted my shoulder rea.s.suringly. "She will have many more chances; as long as I am here, she cannot starve into oblivion, regardless of what Vlad might do. But for now, my darling, it is best that no one else know about our secret meetings."

I sighed in reluctant acquiescence, though in fact I felt it utterly selfish to deny my trustworthy little servant a chance to feed.

At the unhappiness in my downcast eyes, Elisabeth put a finger beneath my chin and tenderly lifted it until our gazes met.

"Go and rest now," she said soothingly, "and when night comes, you will rise again so that Vlad does not suspect. I doubt he will let us meet then, but I promise you that I shall do everything possible to convince him that you and Dunya must feed. And if he agrees, then you can give your supper entirely to her." Pausing, she brushed my lips with the lightest of kisses.

"As for you, my darling... Tomorrow, if it pleases you, we can watch the sun rise together."

The thought so gladdened me that I cried out, "Oh, Elisabeth! I shall love you forever!"

And at that, she smiled.

9 MAY 1893.

Once more, I woke to the sound of Elisabeth's voice, and to the sight of her glorious face.

Last night I can scarcely remember, save that I was happy to see that, as Elisabeth had said, Dunya was still looking and feeling strong. This was a comfort to me, as I still felt guilt over not having invited her to yesterday's feeding.

Ah, but yesterday noon I remembered then and remember now, and each time I do, I blush. Last night I did not see Elisabeth; I suspect Vlad felt obliged to keep her in his presence for lack of trust, and for my sake, she would not disobey his order to eschew my company.

It is just as well I did not see her then; for even in Vlad's presence, I would not have been able to restrain my joy at the sight of her.

"My darling," Elisabeth said softly, and reached down into my casket to smoothe a hand across my forehead and cheek, as tenderly as a mother would caress her child. "It pains me so to see you sleeping in this-this contraption. Vlad's limitations are not yours, though he might wish you to believe so. Will you not stay in my bed?"

"I will do whatever pleases you." I took her hand from my cheek and kissed it.

"It will please me to have you with me."

Her statement pleased me, but in truth I listened to it with but half my attention-for I was gazing beyond her at the unfettered window, and seeing there the first rosy rays of dawn streaming through pearl-grey clouds.

Eager as a child, I turned to her. "Can we go outside? Now? I want to see it!"

"It's drizzling, I fear, and at any moment will begin to rain harder." She touched a hand to her carefully arranged golden curls as if the mere mention of the weather might ruin them.

"I don't care! You can stay here-I just want to be out in it."

At the first three words, she tossed back her head and laughed indulgently, and remained smiling as I finished. "I'll go with you, my dear. I had no inkling you felt so strongly. But if you wish it, then it shall be done!"

And so I took her hand and climbed from my ghoulish resting-place, and together we walked the same path we had taken the day before. Her yellow silk dressing-gown and the dark blue satin dressing-gown she had given me rustled softly against the floor. As we walked, she turned to me, her expression one of unmistakable appreciation of my body, and said:"That looks quite beautiful on you, darling. You may keep it, and I want you to pick out some of my dresses for you to wear; Dorka can do any needed alterations."

"You are so kind, Elisabeth!" I felt literally aglow with love, as though my heart were a great furnace, kindled at last.

"And you are so beautiful, my Zsuzsanna..."

At last we arrived at the great wood-and-iron door and pushed it open. I drew in a breath at once of the damp fresh air, and marvelled at the fine misting drizzle. Beyond lay a grey landscape, and a grey, clouded sky.

True, I was disappointed-how beautiful the drizzle would have looked, asparkle like diamonds in the sunshine. Even so, I was so glad just to be out-of-doors in the day that I stepped forward, wanting only to stand in it, to feel the cool water against my face, my skin.

But when I tried to run over the threshold and skip down the stairs, I cried out in even deeper disappointment; for, try as I might, I could not move farther than the doorway, held back by an invisible force.

I could not go outside. In bewildered desperation, I looked to Elisabeth for help.

What I saw quite surprised me.

She, too, stood in the doorway and, with a vehement Hungarian curse, stomped her small slippered foot. As I watched, the whites of her eyes reddened to scarlet, ruby against sapphire, the contrast eerily p.r.o.nounced against the paleness of her skin. It was the only time I have seen her look unlovely, and it quite startled me.

Indignant, she wheeled to face me. "He fears us! And so he has taken to this pitiful magic..."

She waved in disgust at the doorway.

But I had utter faith in her abilities; had she commanded me to walk upon water, I should have. I waited for her to stride past me, to step boldly outside, then permit me to do the same.

She did not; she lingered beside me upon the threshold, her expression indignant. She could go outside no more than I. My disappointment was complete, for I had honestly believed her omnipotent.

Because of the doorway's angle, I could not see the sun rising in the rosy clouds, nor the snow on the distant mountains; with these, I should have to content myself by gazing through the window. But I leaned forward as far as I could, extended my arm through the doorway, and turned my palm to the sky.

There I felt sweet, soft rain, cool and gentle upon my upturned palm; the drops splashed upon black velvet- upon which they beaded-and deep blue satin, which they darkened.

There is something soothing about rain during the day, and something mournful about it in the dead of night.

At last, I slowly lowered my arm and turned sadly to Elisabeth. "We are trapped."

Her expression was one of poorly repressed outrage, though the red in her eyes had faded somewhat. "Indeed not!"

"Then why can we not go outside?" She frowned, as if my question had been highly impertinent, and with exasperation explained: "Because Vlad has pulled an unexpected trick. Don't worry, Zsuzsanna. I shall soon set it right. But for now, come. Let us amuse ourselves in other ways."

She led me back to the Englishman's room, from whence, once again, the sound of snoring emerged. Elisabeth turned towards me, a cream G.o.ddess in sunny silk, and reached forward to lightly trace the outline of my collar with her fingertip. I shuddered slightly at her feathery touch against the skin of my collarbone, my breast, and was at once on fire.

"He is not so strong today," she said, with a coquettish tilt to her head, and the shine of pure desire in her eyes. "But perhaps you could enjoy a small drink..."

I wanted her more than him, and was about to say, No, let us go to your chambers, and spend the day in your bed. But she had already pushed open the door and entered.

I followed with only partial reluctance; the thought of dining again was not altogether disagreeable, as yesterday I had not been able to drink my fill. Even so, I was by no means overwhelmed by hunger. Thus I entered without haste, but with mild curiosity: who was this Englishman, and how had he come to be here? Obviously, on the nights Vlad went to hunt for us, he had gone instead to Bistritz to post letters to this man...

Rather than go at once to the bed to claim my sleeping victim, I instead pa.s.sed by the armoire, where a number of papers were neatly arranged in stacks. I glanced at the top letter, which was apparently a legal doc.u.ment of some type, prepared by a certain Peter Hawkins, Esquire- and signed by "Count" V. Dracula. "So!" I said, with a glance at the man snoring beneath the. canopy-once again, with the bed curtains left open. I took no care to keep my voice low, for Elisabeth had shown me how to prevent others (including Vlad) from hearing me. "Our young Englishman is a solicitor employed by a man named Hawkins. And he has been transacting legal business on behalf of a certain V. Dracula."

Elisabeth's eyes narrowed with intrigue; she at once moved away from the bed to stand beside me. Whilst I riffled through one stack of papers, she examined another, then picked up a small leather-bound diary and began to read.

"What language or code he writes in, I cannot say," she said after a time. "But he has written his name here; Harker. Jonathan Harker, Esquire."

I scarce heard her, for I had more carefully examined the legal doc.u.ment and scanned the stack of correspondence. I was stricken like Saul on the road to Damascus with a blinding revelation; and now, I felt my eyes blaze with the same red fury I had earlier seen in Elisabeth's.

For I suddenly understood that this man was not here simply as a houseguest, to quench Vlad's thirst. No, he was here for a far more sinister purpose: to a.s.sist Vlad in moving to England.

A half century ago, Vlad had sworn to me that he would take me from this dreary country to an exciting life in London. Only our difficulties with my brother, Arkady, and his son, the accursed Van Helsing, have prevented us from escape.

Now he was going at last-whilst I would remain behind to starve. Why else had he prevented me from leaving the castle?

I turned to her, waving a paper in my hand. "This!" I hissed. " This is a t.i.tle deed-to property Vlad has purchased in secrecy!"

She stopped reading the paper in her hand, and faced me, one golden brow arched in an extreme inverted V as she peered at the doc.u.ment I clutched. "London, it seems," she said, thoughtful, remaining calm despite my rage. "Purfleet is outside London." And she held up to my gaze another signed paper, this a bill of sale for another estate. "Piccadilly. In London proper."

Overwhelmed by rage, I sat abruptly in a faded brocade chair.

"Has he spoken to you of this?" Elisabeth stepped behind me and put a comforting hand upon my shoulder.

I shook my head, and she sighed. "My darling Zsuzsanna... I think he means to abandon you here."

"The b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" I swore, seething. "He means to leave us here to starve! He means to destroy us-we who have only helped him!"

She knelt beside me, her expression one of utter sympathy, and wound an arm about my knees, as if to comfort me. "Zsuzsanna, I swear to you that he will not succeed! I have expected this all along, and made plans for it."

"Then why did you come here, if you knew he would betray you?"

"He told me of you in his letter. I did not come to help him. I came to free you."

At that, I leaned down and embraced her, pressing her face to my shoulder, and felt hot tears sting my eyes. "My sweet Elisabeth, you have been so good to me!"

She held me so tightly, and I her, that when we let go, we both gasped. "I shall be even better," she said, with a look of infinite resolve. "I only ask that you trust me."

"There is no question of that. But what shall we do? We cannot leave the castle."

"Wait, my sweet. Only wait. When the time is right, we shall leave."

"I cannot wait!" I cried, and struck my heel against the floor like an angry child. "Why can we not kill him now?. You are so powerful, Elisabeth. Why haven't you yet destroyed him, and freed us from this castle?"

At that she sighed and remained quiet a time, staring beyond me at some distant, invisible sight. Finally, she met my gaze again. "When another century, perhaps two, have pa.s.sed, Zsuzsanna, then you will understand. Immortality carries with it one unavoidable burden, that of ennui. It pleases me to have a new sport-to avenge your suffering by destroying Vlad.

"But it would be far too simple to destroy him here; and, I confess, it would be difficult, because his power is greater here than anywhere. And it would be far too swift -for he has inflicted far too much suffering in both life and undeath to die quickly, without anguish." She straightened, suddenly infused with excitement. "Let us give chase! Let us pursue him to London and torment him there, unravel his plans. And when he is utterly confounded, only then we will reveal that we are the source of his suffering."

She clasped my waist and drew me closer to her, then planted upon my lips a fervent kiss.

"Let me take you to London, Zsuzsanna! Let us conquer both Vlad and the city. I will dress you in the finest satins and silks, and adorn you with jewels; you will be so beautiful that the entire country will fall at your feet and worship you." And she stroked my cheek with her hand and gazed so lovingly at me that I was mollified.

In silence, she rose and drew me to my feet, then led me over to the young man. It pleased me to let him sleep this time. I ever so delicately pierced the unblemished skin of his throat, and just as delicately drank.

And when, lips smeared with Mr. Harker's dark blood, I lifted my face, there was Elisabeth beside me- gasping with l.u.s.t, her eyes as desirous as those of any man who has gazed upon my beauty. At once she lunged against me, tore open my robe, and licked clean my lips. And again she dipped her fingers in his wound-small this time and not so b.l.o.o.d.y-and smeared the blood upon my bared b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

I yielded, giggling as I fell backward on the bed, against Harker's legs (who, because of my doing, never woke nor even stirred). There I let her take me as she had before, licking away the blood and applying more to the most tender area until I again fell screaming into the blissful void...

I did the same for her, although I confess it was not entirely to my taste. Nor did she seem to enjoy it as much as I; she clearly preferred to be the one giving rather than receiving, and once the Englishman's small wound ceased bleeding, her desire appeared to ebb. Yet I managed to bring her into the void, and afterwards, we lay flushed and warm in each other's arms atop the snoring solicitor.

"Now," she said softly, "come with me to my room. I will have Dorka tailor some of my dresses for you, so that you can wear them when we go to London. And when we are there, you shall buy all the new frocks and jewelry you desire, and then you shall buy more."

I went with her to her chambers, and tried on frock after frock, peering into a larger mirror which Dorka held. Such delight! The gowns were all brand-new, the latest fashion with a "bustle" in the back, and all exquisite (although they were slightly too long, and too generous in the bosom and waist). Dorka is taking them all in now.

And then Elisabeth took me into her bedchambers, where I slipped naked between the most marvellously fine cotton sheets, and pulled the great down comforter, covered in satin, up to my neck. (Now I see the reason for all the trunks: There are no such elegant bedclothes in all of Roumania! She has brought her own linens.) She lay down beside me, and I quickly fell into a marvellous cosy sleep.

When I woke, it was sunset again, and Elisabeth was gone, no doubt in Vlad's company. I had slept most of the day, but was not disappointed, as I felt greatly refreshed. So I returned to the chambers I share with Dunya-had shared with Dunya-and gathered my diary and portrait and brought diem back here, to Elisabeth's room. I shall never sleep in that casket again.

And now, as I write this, nestled again in Elisabeth's sumptuous, comfortable bed, my thoughts return to Vlad's betrayal and Elisabeth's insistence that we should not harm him now, but follow him to England.

In truth, the thought of going with her to London- to London at last!-thrilled me beyond words, and to take revenge upon Vlad with her by my side seemed sweet. But how long must I wait? How long?

Chapter 5.

The Diary of Abraham Van Helsing 9 May.

Gerda has become more animated during both day and night. I have shifted my routine to accommodate her, rising shortly after noon rather than the hour before sunset. To my surprise, she is hypnotisable most often during the late afternoon-but at times, the hour of her vulnerability shifts. Some days, she will not enter trance at all. Today when I rose and unlocked the door to her room (poor thing, I am forced now to keep her under lock and chain, lest Zsuzsanna at a distance bid her to harm herself or, G.o.d forbid, Mama), she was amazingly animated. She sat cross-legged on her bed, long white nightgown carelessly bunched about her upper thighs as she gestured smiling at an invisible visitor and chattered away like a little girl at an imaginary tea party. I could not decipher what she was saying, though the lilting cadence and whistling sibilants clearly marked the language as Roumanian-a language which she does not speak, and with which I have some limited facility. But the words were not completely formed, so that the effect was rather like listening to a young parrot who has captured the rhythm and intonation of his master's speech, but is yet unable to enunciate clearly.

For the s.p.a.ce of a minute, perhaps two, I stood in silence observing this odd babbling pantomime. Gerda gave me no notice-until, abruptly, she turned to cast me a sidelong glance, snorting to her invisible companion: "Him!" This time she enunciated the word in clear, precise Roumanian.

But as she peered at me from beneath half-lowered lids, her eyes widened slowly, and both smile and derisiveness faded from her face. For the most fleeting of seconds, she knew me and I her. For I beheld the face of my tortured beloved, my wife, a prisoner held not by locks and bars but by that infinitely cruder jailor, madness. This was Gerda as she had appeared almost a quarter century ago, with the pale, dainty face of a gentlewoman and the dark suffering eyes of a lunatic-eyes so troubled and despairing that, when they looked out at me from behind a dishevelled curtain of long sable hair (Katya had washed and brushed it out), tears of compa.s.sion filled my own.

"Gerda," I whispered longingly, and reached to touch her hand. But she turned away, slack- faced, all animation and expression just as swiftly gone, replaced by the blank-ness that I have come to despise so.

Nothing I said could rouse her, so I surrendered and tended to Mama a few hours before checking on Gerda again.

This time, my efforts came to fruition. Gerda quite easily and naturally slipped into hypnotic trance, though at some points she fell stubbornly silent (most notably at the questions "How is Vlad? Is he strong or weak?" and "Are you and he still trapped within the castle?").