Not Everything Dies (Princess Dracula)

by John Patrick Kennedy

  She looked down at herself, and around at the cell, then burst into tears.

  THE DEAD GIRL at Ruxandra’s feet stared up at her with cold, empty eyes. Ruxandra frowned. “I did that. Why did I do that?”

  “Because you’re a vampire,” Elizabeth said. “You drink blood to survive.”

  Ruxandra’s eyes went to her blood- and dirt-stained hands. She ran them over her naked flesh, so similar to that of the dead girl’s. “Only human blood?”

  “We tried feeding you animal blood before,” Elizabeth said. “It sustained you, but you stayed an animal. When you drink human blood, you become more.”

  “I do?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Though you’ve been having trouble remembering.”

  “I have?”

  Elizabeth’s laughter, short and low and melodious, filled the cell. Ruxandra’s head tilted, her eyebrows rising with her confusion.

  “I am sorry,” said Elizabeth. “We’ve had this conversation five times now.”

  Ruxandra’s eyes went to the dead girl again. “I’ve killed five . . .”

  “Peasants,” Elizabeth said. “You have killed fifteen since you have been here. Only with the last five did you start becoming sensible again.”

  “Fifteen…”

  “They are peasants,” Elizabeth said firmly. Their lot in life is to die in our service.”

  The words moved strangely inside her head. As if there was more to them—more meaning she didn’t quite grasp.

  “Our?” Ruxandra stepped closer to the bars. “You’re like me?”

  “No one is like you, my dear.” Elizabeth moved closer. The soldiers around her tensed. Dorotyas tightened her grip on the strap in her hand. Ruxandra stepped back.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Elizabeth took another step forward and reached out between the bars, her hand stretching toward Ruxandra.

  “Why are they scared?” Ruxandra said. “I can’t hurt you, can I?”

  “They’re scared of the Beast.”

  “The Beast?”

  “That’s what the men called it—you—when they brought you in. That was three months ago. I have watched you every time we talk. When you are this way, you are not the Beast.”

  Being the Beast is not a good thing.

  Ruxandra frowned. “But I might become it?”

  “You will become it. You have become it every time. Though with each new kill you stay yourself longer. Then you fall asleep and wake as the Beast.,” Elizabeth’s arm was still extended through the bars, her hand reaching for Ruxandra. “Will you not take my hand, Ruxandra?”

  Ruxandra reached out but stopped. She could smell the woman, feel the blood rushing through her veins, and hear her heart beat. Elizabeth was no different than the girl dead at her feet—human. Food.

  Ruxandra couldn’t understand it. Her hand dropped to her side.

  “Why do you let me kill your own kind?” Ruxandra asked. “Why wouldn’t you destroy me?”

  Elizabeth withdrew her hand. “They are not my kind, any more than they are yours.”

  “You are like her. Or them,” Ruxandra pointed at the soldiers. “You’re all the same.”

  “I am not like them. I am a countess. These are my servants. That”—she flicked her fingers in the direction of the corpse—“is a dead peasant. None of them are like me.”

  Ruxandra shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  “I am Blood Royal.” Elizabeth seemed to grow taller with the words. “I am placed here by God to rule over these people. They are all mine to do with as I wish. They live to serve me and to die for me if I require it. It is their place in the world.”

  “And me?” Ruxandra asked. “What am I?”

  “I’ve told you. You are a vampire. To me, a vampire is the true embodiment of a Blood Royal.” Elizabeth glowed as she said the words. Her voice swelled with passion, growing warmer and richer as she spoke. “Greater than nobility, greater than kings or even emperors. You live off the peasants, feeding on them as a wolf feeds on fawns, rather than living off the toil of their brow. If only it were so simple for the rest of us. The world would be a magnificent place.”

  Ruxandra shook her head again. The world was hunger, blood, and death. If there were other things—she suspected there were—she had forgotten them. She turned in a slow circle. “Why am I in here?”

  “Because the Beast is not Blood Royal,” Elizabeth said. “It is an animal that kills indiscriminately, without thought or purpose. It cannot be allowed to roam free.”

  “I don’t like it in here.” Ruxandra walked to the back of the cell, looked down at the nest of straw. “I can’t see the sky.”

  “I know,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t risk having you anywhere else until you master the Beast within.”

  Ruxandra sat down in the straw, her head falling forward. I want to leave.

  “Ruxandra,” Elizabeth said. “Would you allow my men to remove the peasant’s body from your cell?”

  “Is there a choice?”

  “Of course.” Elizabeth sounded shocked. “You are a guest, and I do my best to respect my guests’ wishes.”

  Ruxandra leaned forward. “By keeping me locked up in here?”

  “My dear, it’s not you we keep locked up in here. It’s the Beast.” She leaned against the bars. “I believe the Beast is something separate from you; something that came into existence because you drank too much animal blood. As you drink more human blood, and gain control over the Beast , you can rest assured that I will open this door and give you your freedom. But I hope . . .” Elizabeth turned away and bit her lip. For a moment she looked shy and as young as the dead girl on the floor. When she brought her eyes back to Ruxandra’s, her expression was different. Desire, naked and strong, radiated from her. It made Ruxandra’s stomach flutter. “I hope you will choose to remain with me. For a little while, at least.”

  Ruxandra didn’t know what to say. With me, she thought, repeating the countess’s words.

  Elizabeth’s men opened the door and advanced in a tight group, shoulder to shoulder, their swords pointed at Ruxandra. When they reached the dead girl, one stooped, grabbed her ankles, and practically ran out of the cell, dragging the corpse with him. Ruxandra didn’t move. His blood sang, but she wasn’t hungry.

  “I’ll leave a torch for you.” Elizabeth said. “The Beast did not like the torchlight. But now that you are more yourself, perhaps the light will help you further tame It. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

  One man put a torch into a bracket on the wall, and Elizabeth and the others left. Ruxandra listened. One man stopped at the end of the hallway as and the others continued walking. The echo of their footsteps changed, as if they were going through a larger space. Two more men stopped there. Then a door opened and shut, and the place was silent save for the soldiers’ breathing.

  Now what do I do? Ruxandra looked down at her hands and the dirt ingrained in her flesh. She rubbed hard at a spot on her palm. Gradually the dirt gave way, leaving a speck of pure, white flesh. Ruxandra stared at it, wondering.

  I am as pale as the fair woman. Why did I become an animal?

  She reached back into her mind, to see if she could rouse a memory of being anything more than an animal. All she remembered was endless forest and hunt after hunt. The smell of pine, locust, oak, of stone, water, fur, and blood. She remembered running with wolves, and challenging the alpha to become the pack leader. She remembered traveling with them through the forest, and then abandoning them when they went to places she couldn’t find day-lairs. She remembered the bear she had fought and defeated, though it was five times her size.

  When was I a person?

  I must have been. She tried to reach farther back, but there was nothing but forest and feeding and the changing of the seasons. She could not even remember seeing humans before she had come here.

  I can’t have just been the Beast.

  Can I?

  Ruxandra sighed, and the sigh turned into a yawn. She s
tretched, her arms going high in the air and her back lengthening. It was a stiff movement, as if her back wasn’t used to being straight anymore. As if she’d spent too long with her face near the ground.

  Nose to the ground is the best way to hunt.

  If I’m not an animal, what does that leave me?

  A vampire, Elizabeth said.

  I like that name, Elizabeth.

  Another yawn took her. She blinked hard, trying to send away the tiredness. She didn’t want to sleep, not if it meant waking up as the Beast. She shook her head and stared at the torch.

  Her eyelids grew heavy. Her body was being pulled to the ground, every muscle and every joint now weary and tired. A strange lassitude held her, coaxing her gently to sleep.

  I don’t want to be the Beast was her last thought before sleep took her.

  When she awoke, she was pacing the cell again.

  Or, at least, her body was.

  No! Stop! She thought she shouted the words, but they only echoed inside her head.

  HUNGRY! Something within screamed back. KILL!

  The Beast. Fear raced through Ruxandra.

  Her body fell to all fours. Her legs grew shorter, her arms longer. Her neck twisted again. Her toes flexed against the floor, digging talons into stone. She smelled the prison and saw the flickering torch that turned the gray walls to red. She could hear the breathing of the soldier at the far end of the hallway, and other breaths, though they were too far away to know to whom or what they belonged. She could feel the stone and straw under her feet, feel her talons flexing against them.

  More than anything, she could feel the hunger, gnawing at her guts like a vicious weasel. The Beast howled. It needed to break free.

  ESCAPE!

  No!

  Her feet and hands pawed at the ground. Her eyes glared at the bars as her ears listened for the guards. Ruxandra struggled to subdue the Beast but she could not get hold. Her control of her body slipped away like water through her fingers.

  No! Stop. Please stop.

  ESCAPE!

  The Beast charged at the bars. The force of the impact broke two of her ribs and made the bars rattle and shake. The metal around the lock bowed and stretched. The loud screech of metal made the guard in the hall shout in surprise. Ruxandra could hear him running, hear him shouting as the Beast backed her body to the far side of the cell, clutching at her aching side.

  Stop. You must stop. This is my body, and I want you to stop!

  HUNGRY! ESCAPE! KILL!

  No!

  The Beast charged forward again, slamming the other side of its body into the cage. More ribs broke, but the metal of the lock bent farther. The Beast shoved the cage with one hand. The bars moved and rattled more than before. It backed up again, ready to begin another charge.

  No! Ruxandra grabbed for control. For one brief moment, she held it, making one leg bend and sending the Beast tumbling. It screamed and howled and thrashed, staring all around the cell as if expecting to find the culprit.

  Let my body go! Let it go, and stay away from the door!

  KILL! ESCAPE!

  No!

  “Hurry!”

  The shout came from down the hall. The Beast charged forward. Hurt or not, damaged or not, it would break open the cage. Ruxandra tried to interfere, but the Beast blocked her attempt with a will so powerful it shoved her to the back of her own mind. She could not control her body at all, only watch as it hit the bars at a speed faster than Ruxandra thought possible.

  The bars gave way.

  The Beast let out a howl of joy and pain as it bounced off the far wall. One arm was broken. It staggered forward in a limping, three-footed run. Its cage was at the end of a hallway of rough-hewn natural stone. There was a door at the end of it, but it was wide open. Ahead, lit by a dozen torches, was another, larger room. In the way was a soldier, his sword drawn and pointed at her. Ruxandra could tell he was very young.

  “It’s escaped!” the soldier screamed. “Hurry!”

  The Beast closed with the man, holding its broken arm close to its body. It was going to jump on him, Ruxandra knew, as soon as it got close enough to use both legs to spring forward.

  Screams, sudden and sharp, filled the air. The soldier in the hallway backed out of the way. The Beast raced past him and into a room full of chaos.

  The hallway opened into a large, high-ceilinged chamber, also made of natural stone. Ruxandra caught glimpses of strange devices all around the room. In the middle, a large brass tub sat with chains and pulleys hanging above it. There were many soldiers in the room now. Most were on the far side, their backs against a large wooden door. Others were in the large cells on either side of the room, using black whips to drive naked girls and men out of their cells.

  The smell of blood hit the Beast’s nose like an arrow into a bull’s-eye. It froze, its head going back and forth on its shoulders like a pendulum as it saw the masses of naked, helpless human flesh around it, each thin body a frail container of glorious blood.

  EAT!

  The Beast launched across the room, jumping above the soldiers’ heads. It hit the wall with two feet and then sprang down on one of the naked men. The man didn’t have time to scream before the Beast’s weight bore him down. The Beast extended its fangs and sank them deep into the man’s neck.

  Ruxandra could taste the smooth, rich sweetness of the man’s blood. She could feel it sliding down her throat, like silk over skin. It made her dizzy.

  As the Beast drank, Ruxandra felt it losing control. The blood was making her stronger. Strong enough that she drove the Beast back.

  She drank deeper, sucking on the man’s neck harder, draining everything she could. Each one so different. Each one with a unique life she could almost taste. Around her everything was madness. The naked men tried to fight the soldiers. The soldiers struck at them with flails and swords, leaving fresh puddles of blood across the floor and driving them back into their cells. Ruxandra didn’t care. Feeding was all that mattered.

  She drained the last of the blood from the man’s body and felt his soul flee his dying flesh. That emotion again—she thrust it back.

  When she looked up, the soldiers in the room were all pointing their swords at her. The naked men and women had all been driven back into their cells.

  Ruxandra dropped the dead man and walked toward her prison. The soldier from the hallway stepped aside, keeping the sword between him and her. Ruxandra remembered how fast the Beast moved. She wondered if she’d be able to reach the man before he could raise his blade. She didn’t try, though.

  Instead, she stopped at the entrance to the hallway and said, “Please tell Elizabeth that I am awake.”

  Then she walked slowly down the hallway, back to her cell with its burst open lock. She stepped inside and swung the door closed behind her. It wouldn’t lock anymore, but it would give Elizabeth and her people some security, in case she became the Beast before they arrived.

  She heard one guard leave, running up the stairs. The others followed her and stood outside her cell, their swords pointed at her. She went to the pile of straw and sat, waiting. The guards remained, not speaking, until Elizabeth approached.

  “Good evening,” she said, stepping in front of Ruxandra’s cell. “Do you remember me?”

  “Yes,” Ruxandra said. “I remember you, and I remember our last talk.”

  “Wonderful!” Elizabeth clapped her hands like a child receiving a present. “That’s the first time this has happened.”

  She stepped forward and saw the lock. “My goodness. Did you do that?”

  “The Beast did, yes,” Ruxandra said. “I felt it doing it. I tried to stop it but . . . I think I need a stronger cell until it’s under control.”

  “You felt it?”

  “I could feel the Beast using my body, but I couldn’t stop it. I was trapped. One of us is always stronger at any given moment. Then I drank, and it faded once more.”

  “You’ve never said this before.” Elizabet
h frowned. “This is the first time you’ve remembered so much, or stayed yourself so long.”

  “I see.” Ruxandra stared at the filthy, stained walls and the floor. “Elizabeth?”

  “Yes?”

  “I . . . I don’t want to live like an animal anymore.” She looked down at the straw below her. “I know I can’t leave but . . .”

  “We will move you to a new cell,” Elizabeth said without hesitation. “One with proper furniture.” Elizabeth grabbed the bars with both hands. “I mean to make you whole, Ruxandra. To make you into your true self.”

  “You would do that for me?” Ruxandra’s heart leaped up, but in the same moment, doubt wriggled in. “Why?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “Because you are beautiful. Because you are the truest embodiment of Blood Royal, and because…”

  Elizabeth flushed and looked at the floor. Ruxandra waited, but Elizabeth didn’t say anything more.

  “Thank you,” Ruxandra said. “I don’t want to be that thing anymore.”

  Elizabeth raised her head, meeting Ruxandra’s eyes again. “In return, though, I have a request.”

  “Yes?”

  “Promise to obey me, for as long as you are in my castle. I will help you as much as I can, but I must protect my people and myself. Will you do that?”

  Ruxandra nodded. “I don’t think the Beast will listen.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “We will worry about the Beast later. For now, we will worry about you.”

  Something strange stirred inside Ruxandra, a feeling she couldn’t recall ever having. She must have, though, because she knew its name: Gratitude.

  The muscles in Ruxandra’s face felt stiff as if they had forgotten long ago their purpose. Still, she willed the corners of her mouth up until she was smiling at Elizabeth.

  “Thank you.”

  THE NEXT DAY, Ruxandra moved into a new cell. It had bars for a door like the others, but Elizabeth had a narrow bed with thick, wool blankets placed in it, and a small desk with a chair. She had ordered that torches be lit at all times, so Ruxandra would have light. She’d also ordered her men to lock the door and brace the bars shut with wood posts, in case the Beast reappeared.