Vlad

by Stacey Rourke

  Leaning my hip against the counter, my gaze traveled to all the paraphernalia strewn across it meant to turn me into a modern-day princess. “Why do we have to go to them? He’s my brother. I’m getting married. I say we send him an invitation.”

  The tip of Micah’s tongue toyed with the gold hoop in her lip. “It reeks of a trap, and not in a subtle way. Why would they subject themselves to that?”

  “Maybe … if the potential gain was too good to resist? All those vampires in one place, with the entire world watching …” I trailed off, hoping one among them would pick up what I was laying down.

  For that, Finn—conniving prick that he was—could be counted on. “They would have a hell of a stage if they were able to sneak some of their sulfur serum overseas.”

  “Are you both insane?” Carter boomed, forcing himself upright. “You can’t possibly be thinking about somehow allowing them to bring that shit here! What if they find a way to actually use it? What we’ve been working for would be completely destroyed. There’s no coming back from televised genocide! No one will care about our screams of drugged vampires if they’re set against a George R.R. Martin-style wedding massacre!”

  “Then, I guess we better make damned sure they don’t use it,” I lobbed back. “The lure to turn this whole wedding on its ass will be impossible for them to resist. From there, we would need to use whatever connections we have to make sure they can smuggle the vials through. Once they step foot inside Castle Dracul, we seize control of their shipment and free my brother. Then, we take the serum public to substantiate our claims. It’s risky, but we have the resources to pull it off.”

  My tirade was met by silence, smirks, and shifting glances.

  “What?” Shoulders sagging, I prepared myself for their grocery list of reasons why my plan was ludicrous.

  Finn dragged his palm over his chin, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “This is the first time you really sounded like a queen. One we will gladly follow.”

  “It’s amazing what hours of prep and Micah’s endless hounding can do,” I scoffed, belittling the compliment. “I have to ask, why are you doing this, Finn? The endless research and tireless resolve, what’s in this for you?”

  Throwing his arms out wide, he brought his hands together in a sharp clap. “What could I possibly say that wouldn’t sound contrite?”

  Biting back every snarky sentiment I longed to spew, I dipped my head in invitation for him to speak his mind. “How about if you start with the truth?”

  “I’m haunted by a past I can’t fix.” He managed, swallowing hard. “I’ve given up on you forgiving me, Vincenza. I’m sorry, but I have. I can’t undo what I did, and—for any two people—there’s just no getting passed that. What I need now, is to find a way to forgive myself.”

  So many sentiments floated in the air between us. Those of compassion, regret, and clemency. Jutting out my chin, I voiced the words of hope that had been scrawled on my heart since the moment I learned Jeremy was alive. “Nothing can repair the mistakes of the past. But, we might just make a better future … for us all.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Vinx

  Striding down the hall with my entourage, the heels of our shoes clacked over the marble floor, announcing our arrival to the milling camera crew and lighting technicians.

  “Should we ask Vlad about this before adding the psycho holding his son hostage to the guest list?” Mics asked, hugging her wedding prep clipboard to her chest.

  “There’s no time.” Forcing a smile, I waved to the reporter getting his face powdered in preparation for our interview. “The invitations are going out tomorrow. On this tight of a deadline, only those that really want to attend will be here.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Shoving his rolled sleeves farther up his forearms, Carter’s tone dripped with bitterness. “It’s the wedding of a living god. You could hold a ticket lottery at the door, and every big shot around the world would step on their own mother’s face to get here.”

  That was it.

  The first moment I got a shiver of anxious apprehension.

  I agreed to marry Vlad as a powerplay to benefit our cause.

  Not once did I hesitate, or give serious thought to what it was I was committing myself to. I would utter vows, and slide a ring onto the finger of Vlad Draculesti, binding myself to him the remainder of my days. In the eyes of the world, I would be his queen. Whatever I felt for anyone else would no longer matter.

  For reasons I couldn’t explain, my mind traveled to our hunt in the woods. The moonlight glistening over his features, while his fangs lengthened in trembling anticipation. Wind whipped his shirt back to reveal rock-hard muscle hidden beneath the fabric. His husky growl urged me on, “Take her now.”

  As if cued by my thoughts, Vlad picked that moment to step out of his study clasping his cufflinks into place. Scanning the room, his stare sought me out. The saucy smile he tossed my way making me feel he could see every sensual thought playing through my mind.

  With a hot rush of embarrassment creeping up my neck, I quickly averted my gaze to the floor, tripping over my own foot in the process.

  “Vinx? You alright?” Carter’s hand shot out to catch me. The warmth of his hand sizzled against my skin, my gums aching at the smell of his blood.

  Swallowing hard, I kept my lips pressed firmly together until the wave of desire could pass. “Vampires can’t read minds, right? Not even, like, really old ones?” Before Carter could manage what was sure to be a befuddled answer, I steadied myself on my feet. “Never mind. He’s coming over. Be cool. That last part was directed at me, not you.”

  “So, you’re good then?” Face blank of any trace of emotion, Carter reiterated his original question.

  Swatting away the overeager magi swarming to tend to his every need, Vlad’s path led him straight to me. The suit he wore hugged his physique in tailored perfection, its charcoal shade brightening his sandstone hair to the molten glow of daybreak.

  Catching my hand, he brought it to his lips to press a gentle kiss between my knuckles. “You look lovely, copil. Yet, I saw you falter. Is everything okay? Are you ill?”

  “I’m fine, just suffering the side-effects of shoes a size too big, and opportunity leaping at the chance to embarrass me,” I lied, hooking my hand through Vlad’s offered elbow. Before he could escort me off to our press spot, I tilted my chin in Micah’s direction. “The invitations need to go out today. I need you to see to that personally. Oh, and either force Finn to take a shower, or spray him with a hose. The plants are wilting as he walks by.”

  Turning on her heel with a crisp nod, she pinched Finn’s shirt sleeve between her thumb and forefinger, and dragged him off with her.

  As I squared my shoulders for the task ahead, I glanced down the expansive hall. Gold framed antique mirrors hung between marble pillars, adding an infinite feel to the sprawling space.

  Shaking off a shiver of unease, my gaze tugged back to Carter. “Stay close,” I whispered.

  Chest puffed with purpose, he paid no attention to the man of myth beside me, but fell into stride at my heels. The interview started in the same fashion as the last, with Vlad and I making moon eyes at each other and answering questions about our whirlwind romance as well as the grand estate.

  “Few people have ever been fortunate enough to step inside Castle Dracul,” camera-ready smile plastered in place, the pretty boy reporter spoke directly into the camera instead of to us. “Yet in a week’s time, the doors will be flung open to allow world leaders, celebrities, and the privileged elite to walk down this very hall. They will be ushered to the grand ballroom, where the world will watch as you recite your vows. Can you give us a hint of what we can expect that beautiful day?”

  “Other than the angelic vision of my bride walking down the aisle?” Placing his hand on my lower back, Vlad gently pulled me
to him.

  Caught off guard by the natural familiarity of his embrace, my mask faltered for a beat. I was blinking up at Vlad in curious fascination when a face appeared in the mirror behind him.

  Not just any face.

  My face.

  A fact I wouldn’t have found odd … if the reflection mirrored my pose.

  Standing alone, centered within the frame, daggers from her icy stare sliced into me. Her mouth moved, a haunting rasp tumbling from her lips. “Spirit Lords, connect my ethereal cord with that of Vinx. Let us converge like the moon’s light and darkness.”

  Swiveling in front of us, the reporter walked backwards, guiding us toward the grand reveal of the ballroom. “There are rumors that the flowers featured in the ceremony will be locally grown, and match the color scheme of the family crest of House of Draculesti. Can you confirm either of these top-secret details?”

  Oblivious to anything but the threatening presence within the glass, I dragged my feet forward, wincing as the next mirror picked up where the previous left off. “May we be one and the same in thought and in spirit.”

  “The flowers are all Vincenza’s vision.” Glancing my way, Vlad’s brow creased with concern. “Vinx?”

  Head whipping from one mirror to the next, that macabre vision met me at each surface. “May my mind and will become one with hers.”

  My fingers tightened around Vlad’s hand, clinging to him as the lifeline saving me from spiraling into the depths of madness. “Can you … see her?”

  Glower set at full intensity, Vlad snapped his head in one direction then the other in search of a potential threat. “See who, copil? There’s no one here but us and the crew.”

  Making a slicing motion with his hand in front of his throat, the reporter signaled for the cameraman to cut. “Is she okay? She’s really pale. More so than usual, I mean.”

  Dropping Vlad’s hand, I turned in a slow circle. That sinister version of me met me at every mirror, the voice from each rising up in ominous chorus. “When I walk, she will walk with me. When I speak, she will echo each syllable. When I feel sorrow or lust, her heart will respond in kind.”

  Moving in a blur of speed, I gripped the edge of the nearest frame and hurled it off the wall. It crashed to the ground in a spray of shards, only for my reflection to appear within each sliver. Resonating from the shattered glass, the haunting visions added their voices to the malevolent choir. “Thank you, Dark Lords, for your aid. May you make the cord between myself and Vincenza strong like the chains … of a prisoner.”

  Raking my fingernails down my cheeks, a shriek of terror ripped from my lungs.

  My knees buckled, crumbling me to the floor where I was oblivious to the glass slicing into me.

  “Vinx, what’s wrong?”

  “Vincenza, is someone harming you?”

  “We could reschedule if she’s sick.”

  The mirrors chanting tapered down into one spine-chilling message. “Kill them, Vincenza. Kill them all.”

  Their words licked through my mind, awakening a red haze of bloodlust. Control slipping, my fangs ached to stretch from my gums.

  Swirling his finger in a circular motion, the reporter signaled his crew to wrap things up. “This is clearly not the ideal time. We can reschedule when Miss Larow is feeling—”

  “Don’t move.” What was meant as a warning spewed forth in a threatening growl.

  Polite façade crumbling, pretty boy reporter flushed with unease. “You know what? I didn’t even want to do this bullshit vampire story! My producer insisted the ratings would be killer. But no one has ever won a Pulitzer for this kind of fluff piece. We’re gathering our equipment, and we’re getting out of here.”

  “Kill them, Vincenza. Kill them all.”

  As the reporter flipped his helmet hair and started for the door, I caught sight of the vein trailing down the side of his neck, drumming with the hypnotic pulse of life. I dropped fang without realizing it, my pupils dilated by desire.

  Rising into a low crouch, my lips curled from my teeth in a menacing snarl.

  Carter’s hand shot out. Seizing the reporter’s forearm, he yanked him back. “Stay still.”

  “Vincenza! Stand down!” Curling his lip to flash his teeth, Vlad planted himself in my path. By all logical explanation his dominance in the bloodline should have subdued me. Unfortunately, we were well beyond the realms of logic.

  “Kill, Vincenza. Kill them all. Kill, Vincenza. Kill them all.”

  Ignoring Vlad’s command, I snapped my jaws in response.

  “Get your hands off of me!” The reporter ripped his arm out of Carter’s hold, slapping his hand away. “I won’t be a part of this twisted freak show!”

  “I’m trying to save your life, you stupid bastard.” Carter grumbled, positioning his body between the snooty reporter and me.

  Inwardly, I screamed for my legs to stop.

  Begged for my fangs to retract.

  Prayed I wouldn’t hurt anyone.

  But, with crimson tears streaking my cheeks … I lunged.

  Left with no other option, Carter shoved the reporter aside and threw himself at me. There was no trace of fear in his eyes, only steadfast resolve.

  Wrapping my arm around his neck, I weaved my fingers into his hair and wrenched his head to the side. I drove my fangs down hard and fast, the metallic tang of blood exploding in my mouth. It coursed out in a gushing stream thanks to Carter’s hammering heart. Drinking deep with noisy slurps, I rode his body to the ground.

  Hands hooked under my armpits, Vlad wrenched me off my fading prey. “Vincenza, enough!”

  Still, my jaws stayed locked on Carter’s throat, lifting his upper body off the ground with the power of my bite. Muscles locked rigid, his body twitched. I could feel the life leaking out of him, but could do nothing to break my hold.

  “Kill, Vincenza. Kill them all. Kill, Vincenza. Kill them all.”

  I felt his final breath breeze over my cheek, and something within me … broke.

  Deafening silence rang through the hall.

  The chanting stopped.

  All motion stilled.

  The fog controlling me rescinded, leaving me alone in the horror of my creation.

  Finally able to release him, I dropped Carter as if afraid my touch could harm him further.

  Peering up at Vlad, my stare pleaded for him to somehow erase my sin. “Wha … what happened? What have I done?”

  Sorrow stealing over his features, he folded my trembling body into the comfort of his embrace. “The monster won the day, copil. For that, I am so very sorry.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Vlad

  I woke in full surrender.

  Seeing everything, yet feeling nothing.

  Even my fangs ripping from my gumline for the first time failed to register in my numb, submissive state. The physical pain of my body being mutilated by the change couldn’t compare to the emotional anguish of knowing I’d turned my back on my beliefs, and damned my soul. To endure that torment, my only choice was to deaden myself to it.

  If anyone or anything stood between me and my return to Jusztina, I took them out with reckless abandon. A cloud of death storming through the night.

  History remembers me as a merciless killer. That journey home was when I earned such a title. Those whose larnax I didn’t tear out with my teeth, met death by the sword. My legacy is as the Impaler. What the books don’t mention is that it’s a deed not easily perfected. Embed the blade too far forward and the weight of the body causes them to split right down the middle, spilling their entrails into the grass. Too far back, and the sword can’t hold their weight, causing their forms to slump to the ground. By the time I arrived back in Transylvania, my vicious artistry planted a forest of dangling corpses in my wake.

  Being the coward that he was, Murad saw
his soldiers losing ground outside of the city, he rallied what was left of his men and ordered an immediate retreat. Not wanting to fight someone else’s war alone, the Saxon’s scrambled to follow.

  Dismounting from the back of Garreg, my blood splattered boots sank into Transylvania soil. The courtyard was eerily quiet, cautious eyes of frightened residents peeking out through closed shutters. One glimpse of me, and they ducked from sight. Not that I could blame them. The fact that I damned myself for them made me no less of a monster. Lifting my chin toward the castle I called home, I sniffed the air and felt a shiver of … something. Jusztina was there. I could smell her … and the heady waves of fear radiating off of her.

  “Vlad?” A soft voice ventured.

  Head snapping around, my upper lip quivered into a growl.

  Elena, Jusztina’s handmaiden, recoiled at the sight of me. Fright widened her eyes at the filthy slick of soot, grim, and gore covering me.

  “What is it?” I snapped, heavy drops of blood dripping from my hair.

  Wringing her hands, Elena’s voice cracked with trepidation. The delicious aroma of her terror made my mouth fill with saliva. “I … we—meaning my family and I—tried to keep Jusztina hidden. A man found her. He sought her out specifically, went door to door ransacking homes in search of her.”

  Tipping my head, I sniffed the air a second time.

  “Dorian,” his name rumbled from my chest in a thunderous boom of hate.

  “There’s more.” Elena risked a step forward, her hand shooting out to halt my charge. “She had the baby, Vlad. You have a son. He is up there, with both of them.”

  Driven by wrath, my form exploded into a wall of fog. Swooping and spiraling, I rode the wind, climbing the face of the castle’s tallest tower. I entered through the balcony of the bed chamber Jusztina and I shared, solidifying next to the bed.

  “Jusztina?” I breathed her name into the darkness.