by Chanel Smith
“Well, then I should be leaving you soon, shouldn't I?” she said to Alexei and Anastasia. “You're where you have to be.”
Vlad Draculea's dark eyes looked quizzingly at her. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Julia Agrippina of the Western Council of Elder Watchers asked me to bring them to you. They're here now so I'll be going home soon.”
She wanted to say something more, but Vlad's headshaking stopped her.
“I highly doubt she said I should take care of them. I did not hear a thing from her either.” He smiled at Alexei and Anastasia. “I will be happy to have you stay here for a while my dears, but you can't stay here for the long term.”
“Why not?” Alexei demanded.
“Because my castle is old and falling apart and I have enough trouble feeding myself and the few Watchers I have left that are living here.”
The last thing was a bit of a news flash for Veronica. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, I could not keep feeding on locals, could I? They just started to run out. And it did not go down well during Ceaușescu's rule, I can tell you.”
“So what do you do now? Blood banks?”
The voivode laughed. “Blood banks? In Romania? There are some, but half the country does not even have a hospital within miles. I could have bags brought in from Germany, but I don't like the taste of Germans.”
Apparently Alexei found that funny as he let out a chuckle.
“So how do you feed?”
Vlad Draculea produced a sinister smile. “You guys have those stupid clubs where people go pretending to be vampires and be fed on by vampires. Well, I sort of harvest those remotely.”
Veronica frowned, thinking.
“No,” she said eventually. “You mean that group of enthusiasts...”
“Our new supplies, yes.”
Vlad Draculea got up. “Look, that room over there.” He gestured to the open door. “You're welcome to it, my dear children. Miss Melbourne, we will see to finding some accommodation for you?”
Veronica nodded.
Vlad led her down the stairs and across a half landing. There was another door there and at the end of a small corridor there was another set of winding steps. It led up to a big round bedroom. The moment she got there, she looked out the window. In a tower next to her, she saw Alexei moving about through a window. At least she was nearby.
“You'll be comfortable here for the duration of your stay.”
Veronica turned back to her host. “Thank you. Just one thing I don't understand.”
“And what might that be, my dear?”
“I thought you were to take care of them? Now you say you're not?”
Vlad sighed. “They are supposed to be given in the care of Elizabeth Bathory at Csejte Castle, not here at Castle Dracul with me. She will be able to keep them safe a lot easier than me, and she can do a lot more to raise them as proper vampires. I am just an oddity of nature, I am afraid. A general and soldier caught in a world without a war to fight, and always trying to stop myself from causing too much mayhem. I cannot care for them, but surely Elizabeth can.”
Veronica looked out again in the direction of the setting moon. She turned her gaze north a bit. “Isn't that Hungary over there?”
“Slovakia and Hungary, yes.”
“Isn't her castle supposed to be there?”
“It is.”
“Then why isn't it there?”
The voivode chuckled, but it was a sad deception. “My darling Elizabeth has decided to disappear again, convincing herself she can do everything without me and that she does not have to be a Watcher.” He shook his head. “I think Julia wanted them to come here because of that too. Figured they would in time be good Elders.”
“I think she did.”
“But it doesn’t help to solve the problem that Elizabeth does not want to be a Watcher anymore though.”
Veronica wondered whether she should say something. She decided that she should. “I think Anastasia might be a good Watcher, with some training.” She looked at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “She's a good shot and a good fighter. Killed Yakov Sverdlov last week.”
Vlad nodded. He pulled a letter from his inner pocket. “I know. Kullervo, one of the Watchers in the north told me.”
“You know him?”
A slow nod again. “He is actually much older than me. Good man, bit of a temper, but still a good man.” He turned and walked to the door. “You'll want to rest and freshen up. I will see you at supper time.”
Chapter Eight
Supper was a slightly surreal affair. They sat around the table with bowls of dark, warm blood in front of them.
“So where are we supposed to go now?” Alexei asked him, spooning hemoglobin into his mouth.
“You don't have to go anywhere yet. I can keep you here for a while,” Vlad answered. “But you will have to go to find Bathory soon.”
Alexei had taken that answer as satisfactory, and the meal proceeded in silence. He spent the entire evening looking through the books on the shelves there, while Anastasia talked to the voivode. Veronica just stood staring out the window. Around midnight, she had had enough.
“I'm going to look for that damned castle.”
Vlad Dracula had looked up. “
You are very much free to do so. Do come back though, I would hate to see you lost in this country. The people here do not like vampires at all.”
“Where do they…?”
“Murca,” Alexei answered dully.
“Shut it, smart ass.”
Veronica went out through the front door and then climbed over the collapsing wall. She found the gravel path down the hill and started walking. She did not want to go fast, she wanted to see and feel every bit of this road. It held a special history for vampire-kind, and it was a place that seemed at ease with that vampiric presence now. The people in Bistritz too had seemed at ease with the presence of the Elder vampires so close by. They might not have done so for a long time, but now that Vlad had found another solution for his nurturing needs than local virgins, they had accepted it. They would never have the romantic image of vampires that existed in America; they had seen the actual history play out before their very eyes. Their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents had suffered at the hands of Vlad and Elizabeth Bathory. They had seen their children taken, sometimes never to return. The two of them had fed on the virgin girls for extended periods in order to avoid taking others too soon, but often that had resulted in having to give them the choice between death and life as a vampire. That only worsened the situation as vampire numbers in the hills began to grow. And it had gone on for centuries.
At one point, the whole valley must have crawled with child and teenage vampires. That period was over now. Most of those vampires had either been allowed to die or had moved to other parts of the world.
There was a split in the road and Veronica took the road on her right. A few seconds onto that path, there was another road to the right, but she stayed on the path. It led to a narrow pass and went around. It was essentially one long curve. Half an hour of walking up and down a hill, but never seeing anything than steep hillside, she came back to the split in the road. This time, she took the left and a minute later she was in the pass.
The night air was full of life. There was the sound of wolves and the flapping and screeching of bats. Other than those sounds, the night was silent. Veronica heard the gravel crunch beneath her boots as she walked the last paces down the path. Back in the pass, she had a rough idea of where she should be going and she crossed the way directly. Slowly, she climbed up the steep hillside on the other side of the pass. There was a length of flat land in front of her, and then a steep drop. There was a valley there and a steep, rocky peak began at the other side of it.
Veronica dropped down into the valley and rushed to the other side and she saw a path leading onto the rocky approach. She ran up it. There were two stones marking the path and she stopped to loo
k at them. She tried to read what it said, but she could not understand what it said. It was Romanian and the writing was incredibly weathered.
It took an hour to reach the top of the path and there was nothing there. Or at least, it looked as if there was nothing there. There were stones scattered across the top of the rocky peak. Veronica walked toward them. Suddenly she stopped. She did not know why. It was like something there was holding her back. “That fucking Elizabeth Bathory woman,” she swore. “Fucking hiding when there's someone looking for her and she has important shit to attend to.”
Suddenly she felt a pain at the back of her head and she blacked out.
It was just before dawn that Veronica Melbourne woke up. She looked around and found she was still on the crest of the hill lying by the stones. The first glimmers of sunshine were peering at her from the east and she rushed back to the Dracul Castle.
Vlad Draculea was still talking to Anastasia.
“How did you get along? Any luck?”
Veronica shook her head, which actually hurt and made her wince. There was a swelling at the back of her head.
“You didn't find anything?” Anastasia asked her.
“Think I found those damned stones, but up at the top, there is only a heap of ruins. I tried to walk among the stones there, but something stopped me. And then I got hit and I passed out.”
“That'll be the spell on the castle,” Vlad mused.
“Well, then we need to get that damned woman out of the fucking castle.” Veronica was frustrated. Nothing was going the way it should have been going.
“Didn't those people in Bistritz – Harker and his wife – say that you need to spill blood on the stones at the approach?” Anastasia put in.
Veronica was not thinking straight. She was just frustrated and angry. She charged down the stairs and up to her own room.
She did not sleep well, but with a more rested brain, she thought clearly again when night fell. The company sat around the table again; this time, to their breakfast.
Veronica wasted no time. “Ana. What happened to your little friend?”
Anastasia blushed and looked at her goblet. “I don't know actually.”
“He might have been drained already,” Vlad remarked casually.
There were shocked looks from his guests seated around the table. He decided to open a better line of conversation regarding the issue. “I apologize. I am so rarely in the company of cultured, civilized, gentle vampire folk. I meant to ask: Who are we talking about?”
“There's a boy whose blood Anastasia liked, I think,” Veronica said, more savagely than she intended to.
Vlad frowned. He thought for a moment. “The story of the blood sacrifice to lift the spell and raise Csejte castle from obscurity?” He shook his head. “It doesn't work. We tried.”
“According to Sarah van Helsing and Johnny Harker it had to be the blood of a virgin.” Alexei said.
“We tried that. Didn't work.”
Veronica blinked. For a moment, she felt defeated. Then a thought struck her. “You're sure it was a virgin?”
Vlad opened his mouth, but shut it again. He thought. “Actually, now you mention it. Some mortal paper did mention the other day it is normal for thirteen year olds to have sex now.” He shrugged. “Suppose I need to go younger than that these days to be certain they are virgins.”
Alexei frowned. “What is the fascination with virgins?”
Vlad laughed. “They are fresh. Fewer chances of disease, no pregnancy hormones in the blood. It spoils it.”
“Never noticed that,” Alexei shrugged.
“Since the time you were born, it has been normal to shoot people full of drugs to change their perception of things. Cocaine, heroin, methamphetamine, penicillin… all those things the armies came up with and that are now commonplace. The whole bloody lot. You, my dear prince, have probably never, in your one hundred years, had a taste of truly pure and elementally clean blood. I've spent all my centuries with people who never put anything worse into their bodies than alcohol. You learn to distinguish the other things in the taste of it when it’s present. Virgins have a different hormonal makeup.” Vlad smiled and looked up. “And, they are easier to manipulate into giving up their blood.”
Veronica chuckled. “Now there is something I can relate to. It’s easier to get men to feed on for the same reason.”
Anastasia looked at them both. “I know Quincey is a virgin.”
Veronica looked at her in surprise. “How do you know?”
She looked down. “He's never even kissed someone before. Boys don't lie about that. They would do just about anything to finally have the right to brag about it instead.”
“True...” Veronica admitted. “Can you get him to come with us?”
Anastasia went down to the cellars after they had eaten. The group Vlad Draculea had lured up to his castle was there. Anastasia looked over them. There were two men missing. It was the big hockey fans that were gone. All the faces were completely blank. Their eyes were unfocused and they looked hypnotized. She found Quincey in a corner. She squatted down in front of him and looked into his unfocused eyes.
“Quincey?” she asked gently. He did not answer. She brushed a hand over his face, but there was no reaction. She was at a loss what to do. She leaned in to kiss his lips, but there was no response either.
“If he's going to die, you can turn him to your will already. It won't matter,” Veronica's voice said from the doorway.
Anastasia looked her way. “I've never...”
“Just a few drops will make him do what you want. He won't turn unless he's drained and then fed from your veins.”
Anastasia licked her lips as she tried to make up her mind. Then she cut her right index finger on her fang. She used her nimble fingers to force Quincey's mouth open and brush a few drops of her own cold blood onto his tongue. He blinked his eyes and the blank look disappeared.
“Ana?” he said.
“Yeah. Come on, Quincey. Come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him up.
“Where am I?” he asked. But he followed Anastasia's lead as she pulled him from the cellar.
“Never mind that. You've been asleep, that's all.”
She led him straight into the courtyard and there they waited for Vlad and Alexei to show their faces.
“I've been asleep?”
“You have been, Quincey.” Anastasia brushed her fingers over his cheek. Then, in an impulse, she pressed her lips on his. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and felt him respond. He was still dazed and bewildered. There was not much of a response from him. But she pressed on, wrapping her arms around him. Before she knew it, she reached for the front of his trousers.
Veronica stepped in and pulled her away from him.
“If he lives, you can do that later.”
Anastasia looked furious for a moment. But then she looked down. “Yeah, you're right.” She sighed. “I just wanted him to at least have had that in his life if he does die.”
Alexei and Vlad came down and they set off to the other side of the pass. They reached the rocky path at the bottom of Csejte Castle an hour later. Halfway up the slope, they found the stones.
“Time for your pet to do his duty,” Vlad grumbled at Anastasia.
Anastasia took Quincey's hand and pulled him along.
“It's all right, Quincey.” She led him to the stones. She raised his hand and kissed it, then slowly she turned his hand and she kissed his wrist. She heard him sigh and she bit down into his artery. The blood welled into her mouth. She drank a few gulps of it and then pushed his wrist onto the first stone. Quincey began to shiver and she pulled him along to the second stone. His blood spattered onto the weathered columns and suddenly there was a rumbling noise above them. They looked up with slack jaws as they watched the castle appearing high above them.
Quincey collapsed.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,” Anastasia told him as he sank to the ground. She saw the life fade
from his eyes and she did truly feel sorry about his sacrifice. Suddenly, she decided that she understood what the old vampire had felt who had turned her and her brother as they lay dying in the field outside Yekaterinburg. And just as the last light faded from his eyes, she bit down into her own wrist and put the cut to his mouth. The blood trickled through his blue lips and the color began to return. He began to suck on her wrist, drinking her blood. She pulled away her wrist and pulled Quincey to her breast, hugging him. The cut on her wrist healed, as did the cut on his. They sat there for a moment, recovering from the ordeal.
“Silly girl,” Veronica muttered, but she pulled them both to their feet and then marched up the hill toward the castle.
Epilogue
THE DEATH OF KULLERVO
Kullervo, son of Kalervo,
Drew his sword, looked at it,
Turned it over, questioning: 300
Would it please this iron blade-
To devour guilty flesh
And to drink the criminal blood?
And the sword understood him,
Understood the man's intention
And responded in these words:
"Why should it not please me well
To devour the guilty flesh
And to drink the criminal blood
Since I eat the flesh of innocents 310
And I drink the guiltless blood?"
Then Kullervo Kalervoson,
Old man's son in blue stockings,
Placed the hilt upon the ground,
Pressed the haft against the heath;
Turned the point against his breast
And threw himself upon the point-
There fulfilled his destiny,
Chose dark death and met his doom.
Thus it was the young man perished,
Died the doomed man, Kullervo,
And fulfilled his fate at last,
Dying thus the hapless fellow.
When Vainamoinen heard it,
