by Howe, A. E.
Josephine was taken aback. “You attacked me, you bastard! Surely you didn’t think I wouldn’t defend myself.” Adrenaline was pulsing through her veins. She could see flecks of her blood glistening on his lips, but she didn’t feel any pain.
“You drank my blood!” His voice was cold fury.
“You were trying to chew my damn neck off!” she yelled back, still stunned at the sudden change of events.
“I was only going to kill you!”
“Exactly!”
“Bah! You are ignorant. What you’ve done is a thousand times worse,” he said bitterly.
“You must be the baron that Lupu was talking about.” Josephine was finally gaining enough composure to begin thinking rationally.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know who I was. You came here to kill me.”
“I did not! I don’t even know why you think that. Clearly you’re mad.”
“Of course I’m mad, you idiot. You bit me and drank my blood.”
“Not mad as in angry. Mad as in crazy as a bat out of hell.”
“You are the crazy one. Coming into my castle, planning on attacking me in my bed.”
Josephine threw up her hands in frustration. “I was not planning to kill you! Your ogre attacked and killed my friend, leaving me alone out there. I came in here to keep from dying of the cold. My plan, my only plan, was to wait until morning and then get as far away from this gothic lair of yours as possible.” She felt her neck. Her shirt was damp with blood and the pain was beginning to register. “I can’t believe you bit me, you… ass.”
“You drank my blood,” he repeated morosely. He took off his coat and ripped a strip off of his shirtsleeve, handing it to her. “Here. Stop the bleeding.”
Josephine took the fabric reluctantly and held it to her neck. She couldn’t understand why he was so upset. “Yeah, well, that’ll teach you to go around attacking women. You didn’t even ask me my name first,” she said irrationally.
“I’m supposed to introduce myself to someone who’s broken into my castle with the intent to decapitate me?”
“What the hell are you talking about? How could I possibly decapitate you?” For Josephine, the conversation was devolving into nonsense.
“Of course, you didn’t plan on your soldier being killed. No doubt he was the one who was going to saw my head off with that instrument.” The man pointed toward the leather kit. It had spilled open when he dropped it on the floor and the bone saw within caught the reflection of the last light from the fireplace.
Josephine sighed. “I told you. My grandfather lived in the village before he immigrated to America. I came back here to scatter his ashes. One of my relatives gave me that. I had no plans to use it for anything.”
“Who are you?”
“Now you ask? My name is Josephine Nicolson.”
“Nicolson? That wasn’t your grandfather’s name.”
“It was Americanized. His Romanian name was Nicolescu.”
“Yes, they lived in the village. I remember them.”
Remember them? Josephine thought. He is insane. Aloud she said, “He left here almost seventy years ago.”
“That long,” he muttered.
“Sorry, but I don’t remember what your buddy with the pike said your name was,” Josephine said, casting her eyes around for an easy exit. Could she outrun him?
The man looked at her, his eyes now cool and thoughtful. “I’m Baron Dragomir Blasko,” he finally said, seemingly unable to prevent himself from giving her a slight bow.
Even with her mind racing to find a way out of this nightmare, a revelation came to her. “Wait. You’re the monster my grandfather was hunting?”
Blasko waved his hand. “That is a story for another day. Currently, we have another problem. One that you caused.”
“Me?”
“I was just going to rip out your throat. You would have been dead in mere seconds. But now…” He shook his head grimly and dropped dramatically into a chair.
“Excuse me, but I actually prefer not to be dead.”
“That is because you are ignorant,” he said in a snarky tone.
“So help me, if you call me ignorant one more time…” Josephine felt her hand curl into a fist.
“You’ll what? Kill me? You can’t kill me now.”
“I’m supposed to just wait until you fly into another murderous rage and come after me again?”
“I can’t kill you either.”
“Why not? You were certainly willing to do it ten minutes ago!” Josephine was frustrated and rapidly losing her fear of the man. Despite what she’d said about her grandfather, she wasn’t really buying the monster thing. Blasko was just an insane hermit. Albeit a well-dressed insane hermit.
“We are now kin.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Blood of my blood,” Blasko muttered, putting his head in his hands.
Josephine didn’t know what he was talking about, but she was determined to take advantage of his apparent depression to escape. If she had to kill him in the process, then she would. She sidled over toward the leather kit. “I still don’t understand,” she said as she moved, trying to keep him talking.
“Arrggh!” he moaned in frustration. “We drank each other’s blood. We are now kin. I can’t kill you and you can’t kill me. We are inseparable. Is that plain enough for you?” He was staring down at the floor.
“No kidding?” she asked, going along with his ravings and hoping that he wouldn’t get worked up again.
“Yes.” He looked up at her. “Hah! I see you creeping toward your vampire hunter’s kit. Be my guest. Try and kill me.”
“Don’t make me do it.”
“Are you stupid? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He stood up and came toward her.
“Stay back!”
She grabbed for the kit and tore through it, pulling out the sharp silver dagger. She held it out in front of her, pointing it at Blasko, who kept coming closer. “Stop!” she yelled, jabbing with the knife in his direction. He kept coming. “I’m not fooling around.”
Blasko stopped a foot in front of her.
“Stab me. Go ahead. Try and kill me.”
“I… I’m not angry enough,” Josephine said lamely.
Blasko opened his mouth and hissed at her, revealing sharpened fangs, and his eyes burned red again. He was only inches from her face. Reacting on impulse, Josephine tried to stab him, but nothing happened. Her arm refused to thrust the knife forward, no matter how hard she tried. Scared now, Josephine could only stare at him as the knife fell to the floor.
Blasko closed his mouth and his eyes returned to their cool green stare. “I’ll say it one more time. We cannot kill each other. If one of us dies, the other will become inconsolable… hopeless.”
“You’re lying.”
“Listen, woman—”
Josephine held up her hand, frustration battling with her fear. “Stop it right there. My name is Josephine Nicolson.”
Blasko huffed. “I was only going to say that you need to start listening to me. I’m trying to educate you. To tell you what a mess you’ve caused.”
“We’re going over the same ground. You attacked me. If you hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t have bitten you. The blame lies with you.” Josephine was letting her anger lead her now. What was there to lose?
“Wo… Miss Nicolson. We have established that you entered my castle without permission and with the intent of killing me. I defended myself. The blame is yours.”
“I told you, I did not come here to kill you.”
“But you brought that.” He pointed to the kit on the floor.
“I explained about that!”
“Enough! We must both accept that what is done is done. Now we must come to terms.”
“What do you mean ‘terms’?”
“We must decide how to proceed.”
“That might be easier if you explained who… or what you are,” Josephine said th
rough clenched teeth.
“I don’t need… Fine. Maybe you have a point.” Blasko sighed and sat back down. “The Muslims called me a giaour. My own people call me a vampir. I need blood to live.”
Josephine stared at him in horror. “You are a monster,” she exclaimed after a speechless moment.
“I don’t have to defend myself to you.”
“You do. You do have…” Josephine stopped, realizing he was right that it was too late to play the blame game. “And now you’ve infected me.”
Blasko shook his head. “You are not like me. For that to happen, there is much more to the… transition ceremony. Only once have I ever created another, and I won’t do it again. Besides, you can only be turned willingly. You would have to want the change with all your heart.”
“But then why—”
“Having shared each others’ blood, we are forever connected. Our souls are locked together. The blood of the vampir has tremendous power.”
“Great,” Josephine said sarcastically. “I’ll just leave then, shall I?”
“No, that won’t be possible.”
“What do you mean, that’s not possible? If you can’t kill me, and I can’t kill you, then what’s the point in me hanging around?”
“The connection between us is too strong. Neither of us would survive a separation of significant distance.”
“Excuse me, but as we say in Alabama, that’s bullshit! I’m going home!”
“Try if you want.” Blasko shrugged. “But you will fall into a deep melancholy that will consume you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Josephine said bravely, but even as she said the words she felt an odd tugging at her emotions. This is crazy! she thought, walking toward the door. But in her heart she feared he was telling the truth. She felt her legs giving out and she quickly found a chair, dropping into it.
Blasko stared at her knowingly. After a moment, he said, “The effect is most intense right after infection. It will ease a bit with time…” He stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll give you a while to think. I need to go clean up your mess.”
Josephine sat there, pondering her fate. Staying in the castle was not an option. But what other choice did she have? Slowly, a wild idea formed in her mind.
Chapter Seven
Two hours later, the baron was back. “I took the captain’s body down to the path between the old village and the new. Most of the peasants are too scared to venture any farther,” he told her.
Josephine wondered if she should tell him about the young man that had been with them, but she decided not to. “And your friend?”
“I buried him,” Blasko said with no emotion.
While Josephine had seen his display of strength, it still seemed incredible he could have moved the captain’s body and buried Lupu in only a couple of hours.
“How did you learn English?”
“Over many years. I’ve known a few Englishmen, and lately I’ve listened to the radio.”
“You have a radio?” It seemed an odd thing to have in this medieval castle.
“I’m not a primitive.”
“How old are you?” Josephine asked, not sure if she was prepared to believe his answer.
“Hundreds of years. But now is not the time to discuss my history.”
“I’m leaving. I’ve made up my mind,” she threw at him.
“I thought I explained—”
“Perfectly,” she interrupted. “We can’t be separated by thousands of miles. That’s why you are coming with me.”
“Ha! You are a fool! You know nothing about how I’m forced to live. I can’t possibly travel to another continent.”
“I’m sure we can get around any difficulties. No doubt I’ll have to help you. You probably can’t understand our modern ways.”
She watched him as he puffed himself up. “Bah! I understand everything. I’m ancient, not ignorant. I have money. I’ve traveled through Europe. You have nothing to teach me!”
“Fine, then it shouldn’t be a problem,” Josephine said lightly.
“I must sleep during the day. I need nourishment. It is very… difficult for me to cross running water.” He said this last as though he was embarrassed by the weakness.
“Maybe a box of some sort might be in order.”
“Well… Yes. I’ve used a box to travel in the past. To avoid the direct rays of the sun and the… river problem.”
“You can live in my house in Alabama until we get this all figured out. There’s a priest in town that might be able to help us.”
The baron hissed. “No priest. Ever.”
Josephine ignored him. “How long can you go without food or water?”
“I presume you mean comfortably? But this does not matter. I’m not going to Alabama.” He sounded like a petulant child refusing to go to bed.
“You’re the one who said we can’t be separated,” she reminded him. “And I’m not staying here.”
Blasko began to pace. Josephine kept quiet, sitting back in her chair and letting him work it out.
“I need to feed at least once a week. Human blood.”
Josephine felt a cold shiver go up her spine. “I can’t bring people to you to feast on,” she said, horrified.
“I don’t need people. I need their blood. I’ve stayed alive these last hundred years without taking innocent lives,” he said haughtily.
Innocent lives? Does that mean he’s taken the lives of people he didn’t consider innocent? Josephine wondered. “How…?”
“Don’t you listen? I told you I have men who are loyal to me. They are willing to bleed themselves for me. In return, I have kept the land surrounding the fortress as a safe haven for them.”
“Criminals?”
“Ahh… Some of them are descendants of men who have fought with me for centuries. Others deserted the army during the Great War. They survive as… bandits. I keep them from preying on the villagers. They only rob from strangers who grow fat off of others.”
Josephine was dubious of this Robin Hood honor system, but now didn’t seem the time to debate it. “So if you were given blood like doctors use for transfusions, then…?”
“Yes, that would be acceptable. I would be able to see the New World. I will admit that the thought… intrigues me,” he said thoughtfully.
“I want to make this clear. Killing people is not acceptable in America,” Josephine told him.
He burst out laughing. “I told you I have a radio. I know what it’s like in Chicago. I know about that man Capone and the one they call Baby Face. Killing people is a pastime in your country,” Blasko said with more levity than any time since she’d met him. She started to protest, but he shook his head vigorously. “I know, I know. I will not kill your countrymen. I’ll let them kill themselves.”
“How do you contact your… friends? We’ll need their help.”
“Come with me,” he said, walking quickly toward one of the doors.
“By the way, where is the captain’s gun? I had it with me before you discovered me,” Josephine said to his back.
Blasko whirled around and pulled the gun from his jacket, then held it out to her. “Take it.”
Gun in hand, she followed him to a circular stairway. Up and around they went, until Josephine thought her legs would give out. Finally, they reached the top and came out onto a large turret that was maybe thirty feet across. She looked over the battlements. The ground was far below in the darkness. In the center of the turret was a stone fire pit with wood stacked, waiting for a match to light it afire.
“Damn, I forgot a torch. I’ll have to go—”
Josephine stopped him by pulling Petran’s lighter from her pocket.
“Ahhh, thank you.” Blasko used the lighter and soon there were flames rising six feet in the air. The wind was gusting, sending sparks high to mingle with the stars. “We’ll have to wait. It may be tomorrow afternoon, but someone will come.”
Josephine looked out over the mountains. The
turret was even with the two peaks that formed the pass, but to the south and north she could see for twenty-five miles or more. She felt wild and free standing on the ancient stone battlements.
It’s odd, she thought. Here I am chained to this strange creature and yet I feel free and alive. What must Grace be thinking? Did Gheorghe go back and tell everyone what happened? She sighed. Do I always have to be worried about tomorrow?
Josephine looked over at Blasko, who was staring out over the mountains with an odd expression on his face. The fire at his back cast his shadow on the stone walls. What must he be thinking? she wondered. Saying goodbye to his homeland?
Blasko looked out over the valleys and mountains only dimly lit by the stars. His thoughts would have surprised Josephine. Good riddance, you ignorant peasants. How many years have I fought to protect you and received only hatred and loathing in return? We’ll see how you fare without Baron Dragomir Blasko to protect the passes.
They stood there together for an hour until the horizon began to turn pale blue. “I must go in now,” Blasko said. Josephine followed him back down to the great hall.
“Luca Petrescu should be here today. He has moved me before. He’ll know what needs to be done.”
Blasko sat down at a large wooden table against the wall. He took a pen and paper and wrote out some instructions, using his signet ring to seal it with wax.
“Now there will be no question that these are my orders,” Blasko said, handing her the letter. “Also, he will tell you what my needs will be during the trip. Do not fail to follow his instructions to the letter.” He stood up. “You will excuse me now.” There was a hint of anxiety in his voice as the light from the window continued to brighten.
Josephine watched him leave, a strange melancholy falling upon her. Is this part of the… curse? she wondered. Or is it simply weariness from the longest and strangest night of my life?
Luca didn’t arrive at the fortress until noon. He was short and wiry, wearing knee-high boots and riding a large black horse. Except for his height, he was the very model of a highwayman. He assessed the situation rapidly after reading Blasko’s note and Josephine was relieved to find out that he spoke some English.
