Night's Gift: Book One of the Night's Vampire Trilogy

by Mary M. Cushnie-mansour

“The news is spreading throughout the land that all the relatives of Dracula have been summoned to the castle of Stephen the Great. Rumour has it that the people are hoping Stephen will be able to exorcize whatever devil has taken possession of this family, even though I doubt that any will show at the door for the exorcism. Are you able to enlighten me at all, little brother?” Vacaresti raised his eyebrows.

  “What is it that you already know, Vacaresti? “

  “Rumours of a Gypsy curse. I actually came upon some Gypsy wagons with men, women, and children. I was tired, having travelled many miles through the forest that day. They welcomed me to their fire, but then one old woman cringed as she served me a goblet of wine. She began to shriek that I was one of them—one of Tanyasin’s cursed! Everyone backed away from me as though I was diseased.

  “I had no inclination to stay longer, so I slipped quietly into the shadows and gathered my horse. Before I mounted, one of the Gypsy women approached me and told me, if I hurried, I would find you here at Stephen’s castle. In case I missed you here, she gave me directions to some caves in the mountains. She told me all would be explained to me then.”

  I sat my brother down and told him, as briefly as possible, the events that had taken place. His face should have been etched with disbelief, but when I saw it was not, I knew Vacaresti had been experiencing the same symptoms as the rest of us.

  “So that is why,” he whispered, “why I lust for blood ... why I cannot sleep at night... why I cannot travel in the sunlight... and you say there is a way to lift this curse?”

  “No, not to lift it—only to end our lives, if we should wish to do so. I am told we have the ability to be released from it. I am told we also have the ability to live for eternity, should we desire that, but that we are some sort of creature, not totally human anymore. “

  Vacaresti stood. “So, what is your plan, Atilla? To go to the caves, and then what? “

  “Once in the caves, we will discover the extensiveness of our curse, how to deal with it, and the power that will come with it. We must be conscious of the fact that some of our relatives may not be aware of all the details, and they may inflict the curse on others outside our family. We must do our best to contain this thing for as long as possible and if I might be so bold as to add, to end the life of anyone who abuses the power. “

  “What of Dracula? “

  Vacaresti’s question surprised me. “What do you mean?”

  “Will we be able to contain him? Has he not gone off before and stirred trouble? Is it not because of his deeds that we find our families in this predicament? “

  “Only time will tell,” I replied cautiously. “For now, brother, I have something very precious to show you. “

  “Something more? “

  “My son.”

  Vacaresti burst out laughing. “Who ever would have thought you would be a father before me?” He slapped me on the back. “Show me this boy of yours, brother!”

  ~

  My reunion with Vacaresti was a joyous, yet sad, moment for me. I was happy to be reunited with my brother; I was distressed to have it confirmed that Tanyasin’s curse had spread beyond our immediate perimeters.

  I feared greatly for the others. Once we were in the caves, we would have to try to reach them again. On our designated departure night, we set out on our journey: I, Atilla Musat, and my son, Basarab; Stephen and his wife, Evdochia, who was heavy with child; Dracula; Vacaresti; Dr. Balenti Danesti; and the two male servants whom Stephen trusted.

  Father Mihail was left behind to tend to matters until such time as we were able to return. We had arranged a way to have messages sent back and forth. We knew, at the time, that we had no one else we could put our trust in—quite ironic, isn’t it, that we had to put our trust in a man of God, when it seemed that God Himself had reached down from heaven and allowed Tanyasin to curse our family!

  To our surprise, upon reaching the caves, we found them fully furnished and stocked with provisions. Silently, I thanked Angelique. None other would have provided this for our arrival. We settled in and then sent one of the servants back to Father Mihail to give him news of our situation. We requested the same be returned from him.

  Unfortunately, the servant did not return to us. Dracula became restless. One night, he left the caves and went in search of the servant. He found him lying alongside the roadway that led up to Stephen’s castle. A note was attached to his mutilated, naked body:

  “All who think to pass through to this cursed castle and its lands

  Shall see the wrath of God’s most powerful and holy hand!”

  Dracula brought us the note and the body. He informed us that the one who had mutilated the body had been dealt with and he reported that fact with a mysterious, satisfied smile.

  ~

  Life settled. Evdochia’s child was born. Doctor Balenti had made sure to bring along a good supply of herbs to make the drink. Evdochia thrived on it—as did my son, Basarab. Stephen was enthralled with his new daughter. “A bride for Basarab, ” he said to me one day as we walked through the caves.

  “Have you thought of a name? ” I asked.

  “Oltea, after my mother. “

  “Good.” I was thoughtful for a moment. “We should perform some sort of ceremony for the children born to us. The church baptizes with holy water, but somehow I don’t believe that is possible for us anymore. “

  “Why don’t we baptize the children in our blood?” a voice approached us. “Better yet, we will perform a ceremony and have the babies drink our blood!” Dracula finished with a flourish.

  “Don’t be absurd, Dracula, ” I stated.

  “They will be like us, which is a fact that cannot be undone—so I understand!” There was a hint of anger in Dracula’s voice. “Therefore, it is up to us to baptize our children into our new way of life. It will be a means to survive and to keep our kind, especially our family line, pure. Eventually, I am sure there will be enough rogues for us to deal with. We will need to be strong in order to manage them.”

  Stephen spoke up, “Dracula might have a point here, Atilla. It may be a way of protecting our children. Who knows what elements will try to obtain our power, or try to destroy it? If anyone gets hold of any of our secrets, we could be doomed. “

  Thus, it was settled. Stephen, Dracula, Vacaresti, and I gathered to discuss a ceremony to seal our children into our family circle. Unfortunately, I am unable to disclose any of those details. They must remain our secret, for the protection of our kind. You understand, I hope. To write such in this account could mean disaster for us. Only trusted family members can be privy to the details. I guard this book with my life because there are other details in it that could bring disaster upon our heads—literally.

  Another sorrowful event followed. Basarab was robbed of his bride. Oltea, Stephen’s daughter, did not flourish on either her mother’s milk, or the drink that Doctor Balenti created. No matter what we tried, she got weaker and weaker. Oltea did not see the end of her third month. She did not live long enough to be put through the ceremony her father and uncles had so carefully articulated. Not one of us was able to pray anymore, either, for just saying the word God seemed to burn our throats. Even the writing of the word has been painful. But I could still hope, and I did. I cannot speak for the others, for they were all silent when it came to that subject.

  We decided that even though Basarab was a strong, healthy baby, we should perform the ritual on him. I remember him smiling through the entire event. He did not shed a single tear. I am not sure if I would have been that courageous.

  ~

  We spent two long years in the caves. Dracula left us frequently, sometimes not returning for many nights. Stephen mourned his daughter’s death and the barrenness of his wife, Evdochia. Vacaresti and I renewed our brotherhood.

  One night, Dracula returned with the news that he had found his two sons, Vlad and Mihail. They were in fine health. Their nursemaid, who had begun to notice peculiarities about the boy
s, had kept them hidden and had tended to their new needs. She had heard a great many rumours about the Dracul family and all those associated with it.

  “Will you be bringing them here to perform the ceremony on them? ” Vacaresti enquired.

  “That does not appear to be necessary,” Dracula replied. “They are no different from us now, and they are fine, healthy boys. ” He smiled—something Dracula did not do often.

  “Then, bring them here for their safety,” I suggested. “It will be good for Basarab to have children around him.”

  Again Dracula smiled. “I am yearning to get out of these caves. I think it is time; we have been here long enough. I have located a castle far to the north. I believe it will soon be vacated; I will go there and then send for my sons.”

  At the time I did not think much on his statement, but later I heard the rumours going around the countryside of how the owners of that particular castle had mysteriously disappeared. It was only then that I realized in what manner the castle had been vacated!

  ~

  I have little time now to keep this account, so details are sparse. We have all decided to leave the caves and seek a home in society. Things were under control, or so we thought at the time. We promised to meet once a year at the caves, on All Hallows Eve. We each had fashioned a special coffin that could only be locked from the inside and had layered it with earth from the caves. These we would transport on wagons, under cover, to our homes.

  Vacaresti, Stephen, and I embraced, and we wept. The doctor, Count Balenti Danesti, knew he could be with any one of us but chose to come with me for the time being. Basarab looked on with excitement in his eyes. He was anxious to see the world. His Aunt Evdochia hugged him tightly.

  “I shall miss you, Basarab, ” she whispered in his ear. “Be a good boy for your father, you hear? “

  Basarab stared straight into her eyes. “I shall, Aunt Evdochia; I shall look after my father, for I am Basarab Atilla Musat, and one day I shall be a great count, and I shall rule over all of my people!” There was power and authority in my son’s words! The room was silent. Then I remembered the old hag, Tanyasin. I remembered her statement, which had declared that Basarab would be the most powerful of our kind because he was the first born to us.

  All this happened on the day my son turned three.

  ~

  Here the diary stopped. I wondered if there was another book somewhere that might continue the tale, but I could not find one in the library. I felt unfulfilled—left in limbo. There were so many more details that I would have liked to know. Now I would have to beg someone to tell me more.

  But this much I did glean from the final chronicle: I truly had landed myself in the home of the king of vampires—Basarab Atilla Musat! Also, I was bearing the king a prince. So, where did all this leave me? I still had no idea!

  Settling In

  Chapter Twelve

  When the count had first informed me that I was pregnant, I had not wanted to believe him, but as the days went by, symptoms of my condition emerged. I was constantly nauseated and fatigued. I needed to look for something to occupy my time when I was awake, especially now that I had finished reading the family diary. I was hungry for knowledge and felt it was time to make use of the vast library the count had in his study.

  I asked Max if he thought the count would mind if I took some of the books up to my room. Max took the liberty of telling me to help myself. I was particularly interested in the law books and wondered what the count was doing with so many.

  After the evening meals, I began heading to the study in order to select my reading material. Sometimes I would even sit in there for awhile before heading back to my room. Teresa and the count would disappear elsewhere, but I always had the feeling that Max was never far away. And it was Max who always appeared in time to escort me back to my room, as though he knew my every thought and what I was going to do next.

  One evening, the count followed me into the study. “The previous owner of this place was quite a collector of books. I see you are enjoying them.”

  I turned—swiftly—nervously. “Yes, I enjoy reading very much, especially law,” I finally answered when I recovered from my shock.

  “Why law?”

  “I worked in a law office and was planning to become a paralegal. Actually, I would like to study criminal psychology and profiling.” I paused a moment and looked up at the count. “Why do you ask?” I inquired. I wondered what he was up to, what he wanted from me now.

  “I am curious to know you better,” the count said. He walked over to a set of shelves that were enclosed behind glass doors. He opened one of the doors, pulled out a book, and handed it to me. “This is one of my favourites,” he smiled. I did not notice any fangs when he did so. “These shelves are where I keep my books.”

  The book he had handed me was Bram Stoker’s Dracula. It was very old. I ran my fingers over the yellow cloth cover. The title, in large red lettering, stood out boldly.

  “It is a first edition,” the count informed me.

  I opened the book. The pages were discoloured and extremely brittle. They had an old scent to them. “How did you come upon this?” I asked.

  “I was living in England at the time. The story was making quite a stir.” The count laughed softly. “I actually met Mr. Stoker at a function.” The count reached out and took the book from my hand. He opened it to the first page and pointed to the signature. “My own personally signed copy. Stoker had no idea how close he came to the truth on a number of things about our kind. He was fascinated with me, and I, in turn, enjoyed toying with him, leading him along with little tidbits of useless information about what I thought a vampire might be.” The count laughed again. “We had lunch a couple of times, but things were getting complicated at the time, and Teresa and I had to leave the city.”

  “What happened?” I inquired.

  “Some people actually began to believe what they were reading in Stoker’s book. There was quite an interest amongst some of the people as to whether there really were vampires. And there was another problem—there were several extremely brutal and mysterious deaths in the back alleys of London. Teresa and I had lived quite obscurely for a number of years, and I had thought we were safe there. But, to be truthful, several of those deaths could be attributed to our kind—not us directly, but rogues. I was aware of that. I knew who some of the rogues were, but I hesitated to do too much about it because of the attention it might have brought to those of us who abided by our laws. One night, a couple of constables knocked on my door and told me that they needed to search my residence. I asked why. They would not say. I did not let them in.” The count smiled, but it was not warm, as the previous smiles had been. “Later that night I instructed Max to pack our things, and we left on a ship bound for France.”

  It seemed, during those moments with the count that all my fear of him had disappeared. I was thirsty to learn more of what he was all about, where he had been, and whom he had met in his travels. We were just two people sitting in a study, talking of the past, and getting to know one another. “How long were you in England?” I asked.

  “Twenty years. We could have stayed longer had it not been for Stoker’s book and another series of unfortunate events, which I will not go into at the moment. People are so superstitious—something that has not changed over the centuries.” The count placed the book back on the shelf.

  “Would you mind if I read that copy?” I asked.

  “Have you not read this story yet?” The count looked shocked.

  “Well, yes, I have, but not a first edition.”

  “And what would make this so different from the one you have read?”

  I really was not sure, but I felt that it would be different to read a first edition of Dracula, to turn each fragile page, to breath in the age of it. When I did not answer right away, the count pulled the book from the shelf again and handed it to me. “Be careful with it. I do not believe I will be able to get another signed cop
y.” He laughed. I caught a glimpse of his fangs.

  The count walked over to the window and drew the curtain aside. “I must go now; I have matters to attend to. Meet me here tomorrow night after supper. I would like to know more about why you want to study law and about your interest in criminal profiling. I have never had too much use for lawyers, having found only a handful of honest ones over the centuries. But criminals—I have bumped into more than a few of those!” He laughed. He stood in the doorway for a moment, studying me. “You are a most interesting woman, Virginia.” And then he was gone.

  I stood in the middle of the study holding an original copy of Dracula, in my hands. I had just watched a real, live vampire leave the room. I sighed and began to walk toward the door. I was not even thinking about escape. Max was waiting in the hallway.

  ~

  At the supper table the next evening, I noticed Teresa was looking decidedly dour, especially when she glanced at me. The count was quite cheerful, though. He turned to Teresa. “I will be spending an hour or so with Virginia after supper before we go out tonight. I trust you will be able to occupy your time elsewhere.”

  Teresa nodded her head. And then she glared at me. Was that more than anger I saw in her eyes? Was it a warning for me to be careful? I looked away from her gaze and continued to eat my supper. The count was the first to finish his meal. “I shall be along shortly, Virginia,” he said as he left the room.

  I sat in one of the high-backed chairs in the study, waiting for him. What I was going to say, or what he was expecting out of these encounters, was beyond me, but I assumed I would find out soon enough. He entered the room. My heart raced at the sight of him. I blushed.

  He reached out his hand and tenderly stroked my cheek with his fingers. “You are not feeling well?” he asked. “You are flushed.”

  “No ... no...” I stuttered over my words. “I ... I...” my tongue lost its ability to speak. I prayed he could not read my mind, because all I honestly wanted, at the moment, was for him to take me up to my room and make love to me as he had done on the night he had planted his seed in my womb.