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Heart of Dracula

Page 12

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley


  Dracula had carried her into her house and placed her in her bed. That answered a few questions she had suspected she knew the answer to, but now had confirmed. Yes, he not only knew where she lived, but where she slept. And no, there was nothing stopping him from coming and going from her abode as he pleased.

  “Damn it.”

  Maxine slipped her hand along her neck and didn’t feel any puncture wounds. He hadn’t fed from her. He had kissed her and commanded that she sleep. And she had dreamt of him—no, with him—and he had once more calmed her restlessness.

  Why did he bring her home?

  Why?

  It wasn’t that she was not glad for it. She expected to find herself in chains in a stone cell. But it made no sense. He had her. Why had he let her go?

  Then she remembered his words in her dream. He said he had left her an invitation upon her nightstand. Looking over, she saw two objects that were out of place. A single red rose, and another piece of paper folded in half, identical from the outside to the one that had been slipped under her door.

  She reached for the rose and the envelope and brought them into her lap. The rose was beautiful and in full bloom. She had the sudden and inexplicable urge to find a glass of water for it.

  Maxine could not remember ever receiving a flower from a gentleman, let alone one like that. She twirled it in her fingers, being mindful of the thorns, and thought it over. The Vampire King was flirting with her, that much was painfully obvious from the number of times he had kissed her alone. But he was also hunting her.

  It was quite likely that to someone like him they were the one and the same.

  Regardless, she trusted him as far as she could throw a horse and carriage. Placing the rose down on her lap, she opened the envelope.

  She had hoped for a letter explaining his intentions and his actions. She hoped for an apology for his violence and his impositions upon her. Instead, it was a simple card on the inside that read, “Marliave, eight o’ clock. –V.” Beneath it was penned another line in a simple postscript. “Kindly leave the hunters at home.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh once at the postscript. She shook her head and folded the card back up and slipped it into her dresser drawer. She lay back down on the bed. She shut her eyes. She felt exhausted by everything that had transpired. And sore. There was a deep stiffness in her legs from running in shoes that were not designed for such things.

  She cringed as one of the bones in her corset dug into her ribs. She was still in her full dress. The vampire hadn’t stripped her. While this was uncomfortable, she was far less embarrassed than if he had undressed her, and she found herself debating which one would have been worse.

  She climbed out of bed and went to change into her house dress. It was as she was brushing out her hair that she heard footsteps on her stairs. She went to go grab her pistol from her drawer before she remembered Vlad had crushed it. She picked up a hairpin, long and sharp, and brandished it like a knife.

  Moving out onto the stairwell, she braced herself for what she might see. A vampire. A monster.

  Three very tired, very bloody, very injured vampire hunters.

  “Oh.”

  They all looked up at her, in various states of shock. Alfonzo was the first to recover. “Maxine?”

  “It seems so.”

  “You escaped!” Bella smiled through the pain. Blood was streaked down the left side of her face. She had a series of cuts on her right arm, and there were trenches cut into the bodice of the gown she had worn. Luckily, it seemed the corset had served more than a fashionable purpose—it seemed to have spared her being gutted. “How did you get away?”

  “I…didn’t.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how I’m going to explain, but I will try once you are all cleaned and mended. Come. It can wait until you’ve all been patched up.”

  “I don’t like the sound of any of this.” Alfonzo grunted. “But I won’t argue.”

  Eddie looked down at his feet. “I think I’m bleeding on the rug.”

  “I do not understand why, my Lord.” Walter watched his Master where he stood before the window of the home he had rented for his time here in Boston. It was a stately thing, smaller than his manor in England, but it served his purposes well enough. “You had her. Why did you release her?”

  Dracula clasped his hands behind his back. “She is intelligent enough to understand what has befallen her.”

  “And you think she will accept your invitation?”

  “She will.”

  Walter did not miss the amusement in his Master’s voice. It continued to bring him great dread. Walter cringed and shut his eyes. The fight with the hunters had not gone well. While both Zadok and Walter survived, many of their ilk had died. And the three humans still breathed. “The hunters survived, and you decide to toy with her. You could have her and save yourself complications, but instead you insist on these idle games. Why release her to her own home when you could have her in your grasp? You would repeat the London debacle all over again.”

  “This is not about taking my prey, Walter. This is about something far more important than that. She shall come to me.”

  “What of the hunters?”

  “She will not tell the hunters of our meeting tonight. She will come alone.”

  “You are so certain?”

  His Master turned his head to glance at him over his shoulder, lips pulled into a cruel smile accented by a flash of sharp fangs. “Yes…I am.”

  Maxine was happy to find that most of the blood on them was not theirs. She helped tend to their wounds, wrapping and cleaning what she could. She had no means of stitching them up, but she did her best.

  “Thank you once again for your kindness, Miss Parker.” Alfonzo’s tone was gentle as he held a patch of gauze to a slash on his shoulder as she wrapped a bandage around his bare chest to hold it in place. He was a maze of scars that looked like they had been given to him by teeth, claws, and every manner of weapon a man could devise. The poor man. This was hardly the worst scrap he had been in, by the looks of things.

  “It is my pleasure. I am sorry I could not be more use during the fight itself.”

  “Now, please, can you tell us what happened?”

  She didn’t really know where to begin. She did her best, recounting her false encounter with “Jonathan Harker” and their dance, through to Walter’s appearance and the crowd being nothing but monsters.

  Alfonzo sighed. “Harker is dead. Has been for some years now. He died in London. Along with my cousin and several of Dracula’s victims.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Maxine sighed. “Sadly, I did not know that when he introduced himself to me.”

  “And there was no way you could have known. You are not to blame for this. Any of this.”

  Maxine smiled lightly. One detail still troubled her. “How is it that an entire crowd of monsters appeared to be human?”

  “The French bastard. You met him. Zadok Lafitte. He’s an illusionist. He can control the minds of people around him. We saw only what he wanted us to see.”

  “Then why not kill us while we were unawares?”

  Alfonzo shrugged, winced as he remembered his wound, and pulled on a clean shirt carefully before leaning back on the sofa. “Vampires toy with their food. We’re a game to them. Keep talking.”

  She told the rest of the story…leaving out the kiss once more. All she said was that he hypnotized her and touched her cheek.

  “I thought you couldn’t be touched?”

  “I can’t. I didn’t think I could. Not without destroying or maiming the other person.” She looked down at her gloved hand. “It seems it works differently for him or his kind. I saw into his mind…into his soul.”

  “What did you see there?”

  “Death.” She laughed dryly. “A great deal of death. And…he has changed his face and his name over the years.”

  “What?” Alfonzo furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

  “I th
ink he is far older than you know.” She shook her head. “I’m not sure yet. I can’t confirm it. It’s only a theory.”

  All at once, the three hunters looked deflated, their shoulders slumping. The idea that they might not know the truth of who they were fighting settled on them like physical weights. It hurt her to see. “I have not learned anything of the war he wishes to wage upon the city. We did not have much time to talk.”

  “Why did he bring you home? Why go through all that mess only to…drop you off in your bed?”

  Maxine took in a slow breath, held it, then let it out in a rush. She knew the answer; she hated having to say it out loud. “He wants me to realize the trap I am in is far larger than any chains he would sling on me or any cage he might keep me in. He brought me to sleep in my bed to show that I cannot run or hide from him. I am still his prisoner all the same. In his own right, I think it is a show of mercy to let me run about my jail with some sense of freedom.”

  The room was deathly silent.

  Not enjoying the awkwardness, she continued. “Even if you were to try to sneak me from the city limits, I believe he would follow me. Our souls have touched. He…is in my dreams now. It is…it is already too late for me, should he wish it.”

  “I’m sorry.” Alfonzo shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his stubble. He didn’t argue her point. He knew it was true.

  “What do we do?” Bella frowned. “We can’t let this happen.”

  “Tonight, we hunt. Eddie, you’ll stay with Miss Parker to protect her.”

  “No.” Maxine shook her head. “I don’t think he intends to hurt me. I would be dead, or bitten, or a ghoul, if that’s what he wished. Putting Eddie with me is guaranteeing he be considered a complication that would need to be removed.”

  “She’s got a point.” Eddie seemed less than excited about being in the vampire’s direct path. “But, Maxine, what if he comes for you?”

  She paused. Now came the difficult choice. To tell them about his invitation or not. If she did, they would follow her and likely die because of it. Dracula would not take kindly to interlopers in what she assumed was meant to be a private parlay. If she didn’t tell them, she was lying to the first attempt at friends that she had experienced in many years.

  Lying would save their lives.

  But it would still be a lie.

  While the three of them had barely survived a tussle with the vampire Walter and Zadok and their forces, she knew a fight with Dracula was a very different thing entirely. She had no doubt he could destroy them without trying, especially if he felt he had reason to.

  “He might come for me. And if he does, so be it. He is toying with me as you said, Alfonzo. I amuse him because of my gift. He is enjoying tormenting me.”

  And so, she lied.

  The two younger hunters looked to Alfonzo, their mentor and leader. “What do we do now, boss?” Eddie asked.

  “We hunt once the sun goes down. We hope Maxine may continue to use the vampire’s fascination with her to suss out more of what he is planning. It is better to have him distracted.”

  She nodded. She could do that much. The creature needed to be stopped, no matter the strange pull he had over her. No matter the fact that he could touch her.

  He meant to destroy the city.

  It was just as she had told him in her dream.

  Her conflicted emotions mattered for nothing.

  11

  It was seven thirty in the evening when she stepped out her door, intending to walk to Marliave, the only true French restaurant in the city of Boston. It wasn’t a long trek from her home in the Back Bay to its location on Boswell Street, after all.

  Locking the door behind her, she turned to walk down her steps and pulled up short at the sight of a man standing at the bottom of the stairs. She recognized him—the tall vampire from the previous night. His red hair was swept back from his face. He stood perfectly still, far more so than a mortal person might be capable. It did nothing to help his eerie appearance with his crimson eyes.

  A shining black carriage sat behind him at the street corner. Unsurprisingly, at its head were two large black horses. The driver had a top hat pulled low over his eyes and a dark scarf pulled up over the bottom half of his face. When he turned his head toward her, she gasped in surprise. The man had no eyes, only empty sockets where they should have been.

  The identity of who had sent the carriage was certainly not in question, vampiric escort or no.

  She brought her focus back to the creature standing at the base of her stoop. She forced the fear she felt back down. It threatened to take her whole stomach up her throat with it. He did not seem to mean her any harm. He was merely standing there watching her. Waiting. “Walter Northway, was it?”

  He bowed his head. “Yes, Miss Parker.”

  “Has he sent you to fetch me, then?”

  “Yes, Miss Parker.” He repeated himself with such a lack of emotion that it was nearly comical. She wanted to laugh but held it back. It was likely not wise to laugh at a vampire. Walter stood aside and held his arm out to gesture to the carriage. It opened, pushed from the inside by someone she could not see in the shadows. “If you please.”

  “I had hoped to walk. I would enjoy the time to sort my thoughts.”

  He let out a breath. It was the only sign of annoyance she caught from him on the outside. But she could sense from him more than he let on. Dread. Misgivings. He believed this whole endeavor to be steeped in foolishness. Something told her he resented more than simply having to take the carriage to retrieve her.

  “You think this is a mistake.”

  He looked up at her, confusion and shock crossing his features. “I…said nothing to that effect.”

  “You needn’t speak the words around me.” She watched him curiously. He was old. It was hard to say precisely how many years he had existed in this world. He predated the style of clothing he wore. “Your Master did not warn you, did he?”

  His jaw ticked. “No.” And it was clear he begrudged Dracula the fact. “I am not warned by him overmuch.”

  “I was told you were gutted by Alfonzo Van Helsing. It seems you lot heal quickly.”

  “That we do.” He paused. “Will you ride with us, Miss Parker? If not, I fear I will have to accompany you regardless.”

  She considered her options. Walking to the restaurant with a vampire at her side seemed to defeat the purpose of her desire to make the trek by foot. She could hardly convince him to leave her be. She was not intending to declare war against him or his species this night. It would end poorly for her. It would be no more effectual than a toddler railing against the injustice of their curfew.

  There was no sense in denying him. She nodded. He made no motion to express his relief, but she felt it palpably enough that she chuckled. He was an emotive thing buried underneath his stoic exterior.

  “What is so terribly funny?”

  “You resent being your Master’s errand boy. You want nothing more than to have this business with me concluded.” She watched him with a wry smile. His look of shock had returned. “In that, we are agreed.”

  “I see the rumors of your psychic ability were not fraudulent as I had assumed.”

  “No. I cannot read your thoughts. I am an empath. I can read your emotions. The rest is for me to intuit.” She crossed the sidewalk to the carriage and glanced into the open door. Another man sat inside. Zadok, looking quite pleased with himself. She cringed.

  “He has emotions?” Zadok huffed a laugh. “What phenomenal news!” He scooted across the bench and patted the seat next to him. “Come, my beautiful thing. Join me.”

  “Two elder vampires for a single mortal girl? Isn’t that a bit of an overreaction?”

  “Dracula informed us you were our most important priority this night. Especially since there are three hunters lurking in the shadows.” Zadok rubbed his hand against his neck. Bella had told her that she had slit his throat during the brawl.
“I think it is a valid concern.”

  “I am alone.” She stepped up into the carriage with Walter’s assistance and sat on the seat across from the blond, yellow-eyed, smiling vampire. He was a vicious and sadistic thing. It did not take her gift to tell her that. His expression did the deed well enough.

  “Mmhm.” It was clear the grinning vampire did not believe her. He stood from his seat and moved to sit beside her. There was no avoiding him.

  Walter climbed inside, shut the door, and rapped on the wall closest to the driver with his knuckles. The crack of a whip sounded from outside, and with the lurch of wheels, they were off.

  “You did not speak to the hunters of your appointment with our Master?” Walter watched her warily from the bench across from her. It was clear he did not believe her.

  “I did not.”

  “Why?” Zadok purred. “Did you want to come, then? Do you desire to be our Lord’s new plaything?”

  “No.” She glared at the blond vampire and shifted farther away from him in her seat. “Under no circumstances do I want anything of the sort.”

  Walter tilted his head slightly as though trying to solve her like a puzzle. “Then why? It is foolish to come at all, let alone without telling the others.”

  “If I speak to the hunters of his invitation, they would follow me, even if I requested that they not. If Dracula sensed them nearby, he would kill them for their intrusion. Am I wrong?”

  “No,” Walter confirmed.

  “And he is far more formidable a foe than both of you, even combined, am I correct?”

  “Yes.” The redhead conversed in simple absolutes, it seemed. He was not a conversationalist. She preferred it over the leering creature sitting at her side.

  That left one last question. “If I refused to come at all, what were your instructions?”

  “To go inside and drag you to his lair,” Zadok provided, his voice sultry as the thought of it clearly brought him great pleasure. “Kicking and screaming.”

 

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