The Satanic Brides of Dracula

by Lucas Thorn

  “Dracula knows it’s changing. Believe me, Vasilja. He knows all too well. And he’s changing, too. He really is.”

  “Yes.” Calm now. Still holding out her hand. “He is. And so will we. But will we all be changing in the same way? I believe in our Bargain, Hailwic. I believe that’s the core of our power. You know Dracula more than we do. You know his thoughts better. He trusts you. Confides in you. If we are stronger together, as you said, then guide us.”

  Hailwic coiled through the air and gripped Vasilja’s hand with both of hers. Looked deep into her eyes and spoke softly. “You’re my sister. You will always be that. Both of you.”

  “Let’s go to Vienna. Let’s see the lights. Let’s listen to the music. Let’s see the world which was meant to be ours. And then we should renew our commitment to the Bargain. Don’t you think?”

  “And bite,” Senka said, pushing herself against them both. Clasping their hands with her own. “Please tell me we’ll bite someone.”

  “Of course,” Hailwic said. Finally let the smile touch her eyes as she stared at the younger vampire. “Of course, Senka. We’ll bite Vienna into three glorious pieces. I promise.”

  “At last,” Vasilja purred. “Hailwic is with us.”

  Dimiti grunted behind them as he rolled Peter’s corpse into the hole. Then turned to what was left of George. Didn’t even flinch as his fingers touched cold flesh.

  Threw dismembered chunks into the shallow grave.

  Eyes flat. Dark like coal.

  Began to whistle a low tune as he dragged John’s naked and shredded corpse toward the grave. Looked up once to see the three vampires holding each other.

  Nodded to himself as though it was the most natural thing he’d ever seen.

  Then used his boot to push John into the ditch. Grabbed his shovel and began filling the hole

  Senka pursed her lips, feeling the man’s eyes on her.

  Swivelled her head, but he was intent on his work now.

  “I still want to bite him,” she said. Vicious.

  “Leave him be, Senka. Trust me, by the time we get to Vienna, you’ll be spoiled for choice. Won’t she, Hailwic?”

  “I liked Vienna. But it was a long time ago.”

  “I’m sure so much has changed.”

  “Possibly.” Hailwic lifted her head to the wind. Smiled. “There’s still enough time before dawn.”

  “Time?” Senka licked her lips eagerly. “Are we going to bite him?”

  Hailwic shook her head. “No. But there are caves not far away. Can’t you feel them?”

  “I don’t feel anything,” Senka said. Pouting, she pulled away. “It’s not fair. Nothing at all.”

  “Bats,” Hailwic said. “There are so many of them. And they talk and talk.”

  “What are they saying, Hailwic?” Vasilja’s eyes shone brighter. “I can’t hear them, either. We need you to tell us.”

  “There’s a house. It’s on the hill.”

  “Which way?”

  Pointed. “That way.”

  “Are there people inside? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “Yes.” Split mouth into red grin. Glint of fang and tooth. “And one of them is small.”

  Senka clapped her hands in delight. “Does it wriggle?”

  “We’ll have to be quick. We’ll have to be quiet.”

  “I’ll race you,” Senka cried.

  Vasilja took Hailwic’s hand and pulled her after the younger vampire. “Come on, Hailwic. If we don’t beat her there, she’ll have the thing all for herself. She’s much too greedy. Senka! Senka, wait for us.”

  Dimiti watched them go.

  Rested for a moment on his shovel as he dug around inside his pockets for a pouch. Pulled out his pipe and began smudging it with tobacco.

  “So beautiful,” he said. “Don’t you think so, John? Most beautiful creatures a man ever hoped to see.”

  Chewed the pipe thoughtfully before snapping a match across his thumb. Warm light bathed his face as he lit the tobacco.

  Sucked a deep lungful.

  Sighed.

  Gripped it tight in the corner of his mouth.

  And shovelled more dirt on John’s silently screaming face.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Vienna.

  And Senka was drunk.

  Drunk on the gaslights which lined the streets. Drunk on the music which permeated the air from halls, cafes, and open windows.

  Drunk on the sheer number of bodies which pressed against her as she reeled down the path.

  Drunk on the heady rush of heartbeats which pulsed all around.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said. Wide-eyed and dangerous, she flung her arms around as she twirled. Almost hovered, but Vasilja snatched her by the shoulder and held her down. “It’s beautiful, Vasilja. Look at it! Look!”

  “Yes, Senka. I can see it. Please try not to draw too much attention. People are looking at us. We don’t really want that.”

  A carriage clattered down the street. Varnished black wood polished to a fine finish. White horses clean and immaculate.

  The driver perched atop with his high hat and haughty expression.

  Senka pointed at the carriage. “I want one of those. Hailwic, can we get one? It would be marvellous to travel in. It’s not at all like the horrible peasant ones we’ve got.”

  She almost flew at the carriage, but Vasilja again held her down. “Senka, please. Do get hold of yourself. I know it’s exciting, but it wouldn’t do to have an entire city hunting us before we’ve had time to enjoy it, would it? At least let me see a recital first.”

  “I’m sorry.” The younger vampire clasped Vasilja’s hand tight. “I won’t do anything stupid. I promise. It’s just so… So beautiful. All of it. Wait. What’s that that smell? What is it? It’s divine.”

  Hailwic nodded to a corner building stuck in the mouth of a curving fork.

  “It’s coming from over there.”

  “I keep telling you, it’s coffee,” Vasilja said, keeping her firm grip on Senka. “We’ve passed at least three places just like it and each time I tell you what it is. And then you both forget.”

  “Let’s go closer,” Senka said. “I want to see it. If I see it, maybe I can remember what it is next time.”

  “I’m not sure we’re properly dressed for a café, Senka. Let’s get some clothes, first.”

  “Clothes?” She tried to look over the heads of a small crowd of people. Pointed to a man leaning against a post. “I want one of those. I want a hat just like it.”

  “I don’t think ladies wear hats like that. Have a look at the ladies, Senka.”

  “I don’t want to. They look strange. Look at their bottoms. They’re so big. I don’t have a bottom like that.”

  “Bustles,” Vasilja sighed. Rolled her eyes. “I’ve told you that about fifteen times. Haven’t you understood anything I’ve said about modern fashion?”

  Senka shrugged. “I don’t want to. I want that hat. And the coat. It looks very comfortable. And then I want to come here and see the coffee.”

  “Of course. We’ll come back, I promise.”

  “Right here?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Satisfied, Senka let herself be led further down winding streets. Most lit with lamps, which she circled like a moth before Vasilja dragged onward. Dazzled, she smiled at any who paused to watch her. Grinned wider at their puzzled expression.

  Muttered often; “I want to bite them.”

  Would have, except Vasilja refused to let go of Senka’s hand.

  And Hailwic walked close. Ready to snatch the younger vampire.

  Vasilja kept a rapid stream of conversation, trying to distract her from thoughts of biting. “Stop smiling so wide. Keep your mouth closed. You can’t show your fangs. People will think you’re a dog. Or worse, they’ll know what you are and run off very quick to find a stake. And you wouldn’t want that.”

  “I’m faster than they are.”

  “Only at ni
ght,” Hailwic said.

  The dressmaker Vasilja had chosen was open. Had agreed to remain so for an additional fee.

  And while Hailwic and Vasilja allowed themselves to be measured, Senka stood apart. Arms folded across her chest.

  Scowling.

  “I don’t want to dress like that,” she said. “I want a hat. And a coat.”

  Vasilja sighed. “Well you can’t dress like you are. It’s been horrible having everyone look at us. Absolutely horrible.”

  “Why do they look? Let them mind their own business.”

  “It’s a city, Senka. No one minds their own business in a city. They just pretend to.”

  “Well, I think I should be allowed to wear whatever I want.”

  “You can. Of course you can. Look at that dress over there. How can you not want to wear that? Isn’t it pretty? And red is definitely a good colour for you.”

  “I like white.”

  “White is not very fashionable right now. Please, Senka. Try to understand. Hailwic, will you tell her?”

  “There’s a tailor across the road,” Hailwic grunted. “If you’re quick with some coin, he can get you a coat. And he might help you with the hat.”

  “Oh,” Vasilja rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “You think he will?” Senka pressed her nose to the glass and looked across to wear a young man was working to close up.

  “You can try. If he says no, you’ll need to wear the red dress.”

  “If he says no, I’ll bite him.”

  “You bite him, and we won’t go to the coffeehouse.”

  “But that’s not fair!”

  “Hurry, Senka,” Hailwic called. “He’s nearly closed.”

  The young vampire fled, making the bell above the door clang loudly as she left.

  Vasilja, arms outstretched as her dress was being fitted, stared at Hailwic. “Why did you do that?”

  “You were right, Vasilja. This is our one chance to have an adventure. I know you enjoy wearing all this frippery, but she doesn’t. I don’t, either, but I understand the reason why.”

  “Then you should have made her understand.”

  “She needs to find out herself.” Hailwic winced as a pin glided against her skin, thrust between cloth with expert hands. “You can’t learn lessons by being spoken to. You must learn them through experience.”

  “It’s not safe to get attention. Not for us.”

  “Then why are you dressing like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “You walk down the street in this, and every man will turn his head. You will be noticed. Remembered.”

  Vasilja looked down at her dress. The frills and bows. An expensive layer of gilded lace. “That’s different, Hailwic. That’s an altogether different kind of attention. You know what I meant.”

  “The world is changing. You and I, we follow that change. We observe it. We write about it. We are corks in the stream. Senka, though, is different. She feels too much. She’s not content with seeing it. She wants to taste it. Challenge it.”

  “Bite it, more like.”

  “You wanted to know what we will change into, Vasilja. Well, look to her. Because, like it or not, she’ll be guiding us more than I will.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Hailwic. If we let her lead us anywhere, we wouldn’t last very long.”

  “She’s young. Passionate. Impulsive. Don’t mistake that for stupid.”

  “I never said she was stupid.” Vasilja stretched her torso, testing the corset’s flexibility and was mildly surprised to find it better than the last time she’d worn one. “Well. Not quite.”

  Senka pushed into the tailorshop, making the young man yelp in surprise.

  “I want a hat,” she said, allowing no room for argument. “And a coat.”

  “I’m sorry, ah, I’m closing…”

  “And I will need trousers. And a shirt. I want a white shirt. Should I get boots?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but-”

  “Yes, I think I should have boots.” She tossed the small bag of coins Hailwic had given her and let it bounce in front of him. “But I want them to be comfortable.”

  He wet his lip and winced. “Oh, Lord,” he muttered. “Mitzi will kill me for being late.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing, Miss,” he said. “I can assist with the outfit. I don’t sell hats, but I can recommend a place to go. And for boots, also. Is it for your husband?”

  “No.” Mouth tightened to a frigid line. “It is not. I wouldn’t buy him anything at all. If he wants something, he can get it himself. No, they’re for me.”

  “You?”

  “Yes.” She held out her arms as Vasilja and Hailwic had done. “You may measure me.”

  “But, I’m a tailor, Miss. I don’t do dresses.”

  “I don’t want a dress! I want a coat. And a hat. And boots.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “Are you a Christian?”

  “I beg your pardon, Miss.” The young man patted his cheek as they reddened. “I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure you want to dress this way? I mean, I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  “There will only be trouble if I don’t get my coat.”

  “Of course,” he sighed. The pouch looked more than heavy enough that she wasn’t wasting his time. “Very well. Let’s look at a few styles and you can tell me what you’d like.”

  “And the hat? Boots?”

  “You want it organised tonight, I assume?”

  “Of course. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I think my assistant is still here. I’ll have him find out who’s still around. Let’s see what we can do.”

  “Thank you,” Senka said, finally letting herself smile. Careful to keep fangs tucked in as Vasilja had ordered. Remembered what she’d said about compliments. “You’re very helpful.”

  “And more than a little insane,” he murmured.

  “What is your name?”

  “Hugo, Miss. Hugo Loos.” He rummaged in a box for appropriate tapes. Bobbed his head a little as he turned to face her. “At your service.”

  “Hugo?” She ran the name across her tongue. “I like it.”

  “Thank you.” Dry. “It was my father’s. I inherited it. It came with this shop.”

  “You don’t like it here?”

  “It could be worse, I suppose.” Then frowned as he realised how he was talking. “I’m sorry. That’s a little too personal, I think. Now, I’ll need to measure you, of course. I apologise in advance, but I’m not used to measuring ladies. Also, I assure you I am happily married, and any incorrect placement of hand is entirely due to inexperience. My customers are mostly gentlemen, you know.”

  “I don’t mind.” She drew herself up and nodded. “Vasilja says good clothes should fit properly and are worth getting stabbed with a few pins.”

  “Yes. Well, I’ll try to miss with the pins.”

  “When can my coat be ready?”

  “Given the amount you’re paying, Miss, I’ll have it ready for you by tomorrow.”

  “That would be good.” Then cocked her head. “After sunset.”

  “Of course.” Shook his head. “Twice in a row. She’ll definitely kill me.”

  “Who will kill you?”

  “My wife.” Quick smile. “Honestly, she’s not as bad as that, but we were only married last month, and she does expect me to be home on time.”

  “I’m making you late?”

  “Ah. I’m sorry, Miss.” Shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m talking so much. You must have surprised me. I meant it when I said my customers are mostly gentlemen. And there’s some things a man will tell another which he’d never dream of saying to a lady.”

  “That’s silly.”

  “Possibly,” he admitted. “But it’s also very sensible. A lady, after all, has secrets of her own. That is how she keeps her mystery. It’s only fair that men have theirs.”

  “You like mystery, Hugo?
”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t?”

  “Vasilja likes to know everything.”

  “Life is a string of mysteries. Some we will solve. Others we shan’t.” Another smile as he began measuring her shoulder. “If we learn the answer to everything, we’d grow bored.”

  “Yes,” Senka nodded. “I think that way, too. I was very bored in the castle once I discovered all its secrets.”

  “You lived in a castle?” He looked surprised. “A real one?”

  “Yes. In Transylvania. It wasn’t as fine as the buildings here, though.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it was very fine, Miss,” he said. “At least, I find the streets of Vienna bore me. I know them, you see. All their secrets, as you say. I’m sure your castle would astound me.”

  The young vampire burrowed her brow and thought about it.

  “Maybe he’s bored with us,” she said. “Maybe that’s why he left.”

  “Bored of you?” Hugo paused sharply. “Oh, I doubt anyone could be bored of you, Miss. I, ah…”

  “That’s nice of you to say, Hugo,” Senka said as he trailed off awkwardly. Lifted her arm for him. Watched him fumble with the tape. “You know, this has been very pleasant. Usually I can’t stand being still like this. I think, when this is done, I won’t even bite you at all.”

  Hugo shot her a puzzled look.

  Smiled nervous, unsure what to say. Settled on; “Well, thank you, Miss. I appreciate that. Very much.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Vasilja sat at the table with her hands in her lap.

  Hailwic had left them in the café, telling them she wanted to find out if Dracula had been through Vienna. “Look after Senka.”

  “Thanks so very much,” Vasilja said. Looked to where Senka was pressed against a pillar, her back to it. Facing a young man with an excessive large moustache. “This will be fun.”

  “I like to think you’re getting just what you wanted, Vasilja,” Hailwic said as she left.

  Just a hint of malicious humour.

  “I wanted to go to the Opera. Not to a bawdy little coffeehouse.”

  An old man sat at the table next to her. Newspaper across knee. Tea at elbow in a small nickel pot. Orange bowl-shaped cup near wrist. Steam drifting loose.