Piera broke into a slight run. She turned a corner and pulled her shawl tight again. When she came to the bridge, she hesitated. The Ponte Vecchio attracted all manner of strange people at night.
“Good night,” a voice said from close by.
It startled her. She turned and saw Dracula emerge from the shadows.
“Do not be afraid,” he said, smiling. “I shall not harm you.”
“Who are you?” she asked, suspicious of him.
Her heart pounded in her chest. She recognised him from the night before. It worried her that he was here again.
“I am a friend,” he assured her.
“Why are you here? Are you following me?”
“I came to see you home safely.”
“Someone else does that usually.”
“You mean, Niccolo?”
“Yes, Niccolo. He walks me home every night.”
“I know.”
“Where is he? Has some ill fate befallen him?”
“No, he is well.”
“But he is always here, without fail.”
“The signora sent him on business to Rome. He should be gone for some time.”
“Signora dei Cattanei? So he does work for her?”
“Yes, he is one of her men.”
Piera sighed with relief. She had wondered long and hard about it.
“He asked me to come in his place, so it rests with me to see you get home safely this night.”
She was not entirely convinced. Though when she studied him, she saw a sword hanging from his waist. He appeared too well-dressed for a soldier. Therefore, he had to be a noble, or a nobleman’s bodyguard. “Then I thank you for your trouble.”
“Come, it is late. Let us walk.”
They met this way every night after that. Machiavelli heeded the warning and never came again. He did not put his quill down for weeks. Much of what he wrote, he based on what he knew of Dracula. The rest, he made up. Over time, he produced reams of work.
Dracula never saw or spoke to him again. He knew he had captivated the young Florentine. Once he had got past his fears, he was totally intrigued. Dracula was sure he would write and write.
Piera wondered about him for the first few nights she did not see him. After that, he slowly faded from her mind. She grew to like her new escort. His stories of the world left her wanting to know more. She never asked him who he was. He never offered to tell her. They became friends, but remained strangers.
TUSCANY. THE PONTE VECCHIO IN FLORENCE.
SEPTEMBER 1, 1489.
On the first night in September, Dracula waited for Piera again. She smiled when she saw him by the Ponte Vecchio. The days remained warm, but the nights had turned colder.
The Borgia children had returned to Rome to their father. Dracula was glad of it. He did not like the fascination Giovanni had with her. Piera now played for other nobles in the city on the recommendation of Signora dei Cattanei.
“It is turning cold,” she said, when they met.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I smell the winter already.”
“I am sure you are accustomed to the cold, though.”
He looked puzzled. “Why do you say that?”
“I only ever see you by night.”
“Yes, I love the night.”
“I often wonder over that.”
“Why do you? What is there to wonder?”
“I think that you must sleep all through the day.”
“You would think right, then. I do sleep by day.”
“I have never heard of such a thing.”
“Have you not?”
“No, it is such odd behaviour.”
“To you, perhaps. To me, the night is everything. It is when I come alive.”
“It is no wonder you look so pale. You never see the sunshine.”
“My skin is averse to it. It has been for many years.”
“That is another thing I have not heard of before.”
“Then there is much you do not know. Such things do occur.”
“There is not much I know of you, I admit.”
“I thought that is how you wanted it. You never ask anything of me, or my life.”
“Perhaps it is time I did.”
“You only have to ask if you wish to know something of me.”
She stopped for a moment and studied him. When he offered a perplexed look, she smiled. “So, what is your name? Your true name.”
“It is Vlad.”
“Vlad?”
“Vlad Dracula, yes.”
“It is not a name I have heard before. Where does it come from?”
“To the east.”
“Is that where you are from?”
“Yes, I hail from the Romanias.”
“I am not familiar with that place.”
“You ought to be. It is so named after the Romans.”
“I spoke Latin when I was younger, but I was never one for history.”
“Why have you never married?”
She raised an eyebrow when he fired in the question. It was not one she had expected. “What makes you think I have not been?”
“I can tell it of you.”
“You have a keen eye, Vlad. I have never met the right man.”
“Then you are a beauty wasted.”
She blushed at his words. “You think I am a beauty?”
“Oh, yes,” he insisted. “Without a doubt, you are very beautiful of face. From what I can see, you are beautiful in heart and soul too.”
She laughed. It was the first time he had seen her do so. “You are such a rogue.”
“I cannot be a rogue for speaking the truth.”
“No, I grant you that. I did give my heart to one, many years ago, but I lost faith in Him.”
“And you have lived alone since?”
“Yes, I have never sought the company of another.”
“Might that ever change?”
“I imagine it might. Who is to say?”
They stopped and gazed at each other for a moment. Dracula delved into her mind and heart. For the first time, he noticed a difference in her. She had feelings for him, feelings that were very real. The way she looked at him caused a flutter in his stomach that surprised him. He had always wanted her, but she was like no other he had met since his change. To have her, she had to want him too.
He took her hands in his. She allowed him to gently pull her towards him, and fell into his arms. They embraced for a long time. When they broke from it, he leant forward and kissed her tenderly on the lips. He heard a groan work its way from the pit of her stomach as her lips responded to his.
Her eyes remained closed, even after their lips parted. “No man has ever kissed me, not till this moment.”
It surprised him to hear that, but delighted him all the same. She possessed a beauty, inside and out, that many men would kill for. He knew he would, too, should the need ever arise. “Then how did it feel?”
“It felt wonderful.”
“Would you like me to kiss you again?”
“Yes, I would.”
They kissed again, though it lasted much longer this time. Her lips searched for his with a desire she never knew she possessed. He felt her chest heave when he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in closer.
A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Some scared her, but others warmed her inside. Her body felt and did things that were totally new to her. She groaned when his lips touched her neck. Her nipples hardened and a moist patch developed between her legs. This is what it feels like to be close to a man.
When they broke from their kiss, she looked long into his eyes. Something in them warned her to exercise caution, but no man had ever made her feel like this. Right now, that was all that mattered to her. For the first time, she felt desire, need, and longing. She felt safe and, most importantly, no longer alone in the world.
Dracula knew what he had found here, a precious treasure that had remained hidden away for so long. To t
he right man, she could give more happiness and fulfilment than any amount of gold, or gems. Just by holding her in his arms, he knew this. He had the key to her heart in his hands. All he had to do was unlock her, and he would enjoy the most wondrous chest of delights. He knew it, and he knew, too, that nothing would ever compensate him should he lose her.
“May I take your hand?” he asked, holding his out to her.
She looked at him and smiled. “Yes, I would like that.”
He took her right hand in his left. She then leaned into him, her left hand holding his left arm. His muscles rippled through his clothes. It surprised her, but delighted her at the same time. They obviously disguised his physique well.
Soon they arrived outside her humble home. When they stood face-to-face again, she looked down at his feet. A little embarrassed, she asked, “Would you like to come inside? In this moment in time, I do not want to be alone.”
He smiled. “Thank you, I would love to stay with you awhile.”
She showed him inside, still holding her head low. It was sparse, but clean and tidy. She lived in one room, which contained a bed; a table; two chairs; a closet; and a fireplace.
“You deserve better than this,” he said, looking around.
The modesty of her home embarrassed her a great deal in his presence. “I am a simple woman, but I am happy enough with what I have.”
“No, you are a beautiful woman. I cannot fathom how you are alone.”
“It is by choice. I have never felt the need to be with another.”
“That is till this night?”
She smiled and blushed. “Yes, that was till this night.”
“I could offer you so much more than this,” he said.
“You are a nobleman?”
“Yes, I come from royal stock.”
“That would explain why you can sleep all through the day,” she said, allowing herself to laugh.
“Does it bother you that I am?”
“No, but objects of value do not interest me,” she said, her tone firm enough for him to know she meant it.
“I could give you love.”
“That is all I would ever want from you. Your love, and to feel safe.”
“I can give you those things, if you wanted them from me.”
A tear welled in her eye. “I think I do want them, yes,” she whispered.
He kissed her again, long and slow. They fell down onto her bed, their lips moving in perfect harmony. She groaned as she felt him press against her. The feelings she had there both frightened and excited her, but nothing had ever felt as good. He kissed her with a passion he had not felt in years, the intensity between them growing ever stronger. Aching for his touch, she responded with the same vigour.
The ache in him was even greater. He had wanted her the moment he first saw her. They kissed late into the night, the scent of her arousal touching his every nerve. He wanted so desperately to make love to her, but he would not do it, even if she allowed him to.
He thought back to the night with the whore on the roof of the tavern. His size had inflicted terrible damage to her body. The experience had stayed with him and now, in this moment, it haunted him. He could not let Piera endure the same.
It bothered him why this had occurred. No other woman he had been with for that purpose had suffered that way. They may have struggled at first to accommodate him, but nothing to that extent. The ones he had damaged were those he had fed on. He was afraid now to take a chance. There could only have been one reason for it, he mused. He had fed on two men immediately before having sex with her. A huge amount of blood had transfused into his body, every part of it.
On this night, he had fed early. He had preyed on an elderly man and still thirsted. Perhaps, sex would be easier and safer tonight. He could see she was thinking along the same lines. She had never given herself to anyone, but now she felt that maybe the time had come. The prospect still terrified her, and she was building the courage to give in to what her body so badly needed.
He put his hand on her breast for the first time. She groaned, but pulled his wrist away. Her nipple stretched at his touch, increasing the ache right through her.
“Your body says you want me,” he whispered in her ear.
“All that I am wants you,” she gasped. “Though I am afraid. I am still a maiden.”
He moved his hand over her belly. Slowly, it worked its way upward again. “I promise to be gentle,” he said. “It shall mean we belong to each other for always.”
When his hand touched on her breast again, she did not resist him. It felt incredible. Her whole body quivered with fear and excitement. It took him a while, but eventually, he removed all her clothes.
His heart missed a beat when he looked at her. “You are so beautiful,” he gasped. “I wish only that you can be mine for all eternity.”
She trembled all over, the cool air of the night from the window on her skin magnifying her state of arousal. No man had ever looked upon her naked form. She worried that he may not really find her beautiful, that he might have said it only to have his way with her. At the same time, he had unlocked something inside her. She loved how he made her feel, and she wanted him. She wanted him to have her and be the first to bring out the woman in her.
Her very first time would be all for him and, she hoped, every time thereafter. “Then make it so, Vlad. Make me yours.”
He slowly eased inside her. She stifled a cry and held onto his neck with both hands. He gently spread her thighs and pushed in deeper. She groaned louder than anyone he had ever heard. Although fragile and tight, she relaxed enough to take him whole. “Oh, dear God,” she wailed. “Oh, yes.”
She cried out in ecstasy with his every delicate movement. Eventually, she drew her thighs in and wrapped her legs around his. She had no idea what to do or how to respond to him. It was all she could do to hold him tight and kiss him. Her body did the rest for her, reacting naturally to the things he did.
“Do you want this for all eternity?” he gasped.
“Yes, oh, yes. I wish for this to last forever.”
“I can make it so. All you need do is say you want that from me.”
Her mind was elsewhere. “Then make it so. I want to always feel this way.”
He ran his tongue along the side of her neck. The sensation made her tingle all over. He felt the vibration of her blood through the veins beneath. It exuded the sweetest smell. He longed to taste it and show her to the wonders of his world.
“Make me yours forever,” she gasped.
“I want to,” he whispered softly in her ear.
“I love you,” she groaned, her eyes still closed. “I want to always be yours.”
“Then you shall be.”
“Yes, yes,” she whispered. “Love me and marry…”
Before she could finish, he plunged his teeth deep into her neck. She opened her eyes wide, and cried out. Her whole body tensed like never before. He clamped his jaw to her and sucked hard, the first of her blood transfusing into his body. It tasted so good. He felt her terror at his bite, but still he sucked. It shall not last, my love. Soon, you shall be with me for eternity.
A terrible pain hit his stomach. He stopped and opened his eyes wide. Suddenly, his tongue and lips began to burn. It spread to his throat and all the way down through his body. She lay paralysed beneath him. He withdrew quickly, a real panic in his heart as he realised she had consecrated blood running through her veins.
Her eyes followed him, although she did not move. Blood oozed from the wound in her neck and onto her pillow.
He looked at her with real fear in his eyes, knowing he had made a grave mistake. “Were you once a nun?”
She nodded her head slowly.
He doubled over in pain. “No!” he cried, holding his stomach with both hands. How did I not sense this?
Dracula moved farther away from her. Her blood would erode him from the inside out. He needed to act fast. If not, her blood would burn him to ash. He l
ooked up at a wooden hatch on the sloped ceiling. Without giving Piera another thought, he rose up and smashed through it. He cried out as he flew, naked, into the night sky. Only one thing could save him, and he had to find it fast.
The blood from Piera heated him inside, and oozed like sweat from his every pore. His heart enlarged as it tried to combat this deadly force that now attacked it. It fought to separate the good blood from the bad. More of it oozed from his nose, and burned his upper lip as though it were acid.
Piera lay frozen on the bed. Her wound began to fester and erode as the virus from his saliva ate into her delicate flesh. When he withdrew, an infection had set in. Cramps hit her stomach. Her body needed his blood now.
She could do nothing to ease her suffering. Her arms remained paralysed at her sides, and as the tears rolled down her cheeks, she knew at once she was going to die.
Dracula lowered down over the rooftops, nervous as his senses began to desert him. When he needed them the most, he found himself unable to function properly. A mucky discharge leaked from his anal opening. Already, some of his inner parts had begun to dissolve. Time was against him and if he did not find a foetus soon, he would perish.
He crashed through the roof of the nearest house. Without his acute sense of smell to guide him, he charged blindly from room to room. His actions woke everyone inside. When the man of the house rose to meet him, Dracula smashed an elbow into his face. It drove the bridge of the man’s nose up into his brain and killed him.
The search began in earnest for the man’s wife. She screamed when he entered her bedchamber. The naked image that met her eyes as she rose from the bed filled her with dread. He knocked her down and, with great haste, he dived between her legs. The moment his tongue touched against her vaginal opening, he knew she was not pregnant. It was all that saved her life.
He left her at once and, walking out of the room, he encountered her young adult daughter. They stood face-to-face for a moment. She could not move or scream, frozen by her fear of him. As soon as he gazed into her eyes, he sensed her purity. She was still a virgin.
The first thought that entered his mind was that her virginal blood might delay his demise. He grabbed her up in his arms and wrapped them around her waist so tightly that she could not cry out. When she struggled to break free, he turned her upside down and bit into her femoral artery. She cried out finally and kicked out with both legs. He held her firm, around her knees, and continued to drink while he walked.
The Dracula Chronicles: Bound By Blood Page 10
