There was a horrible silence. I could feel Cneajna’s anger beating down on me.
“Very well,” she finally whispered.
I could feel her lay back down beside me, the long golden tresses falling around us like a blanket. Then there was a loud scraping noise and the coffin lid shut over us.
“You will learn to love the darkness,” Cneajna whispered tersely to cut off my protest. “And you will learn to love us.”
Chapter 9
The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright Continued
I awoke burning with the hunger.
My screams rang through the crumbling remains of the chapel and the long corridor beyond. Prince Vlad emerged from the darkness into the torchlight and stood over me. A dark smile formed under his thick mustache and within the depths of his green eyes glimmered red fires.
Wolves entered the chapel, their long nails clicking across the stone floor. The pack leader bowed his head to Vlad, and Vlad tipped his head in acknowledgment of this homage.
Elina appeared in the doorway of Cneajna's tomb as Ariana joined her.
“The hunger,” Ariana said softly.
“The madness,” Elina corrected.
Prince Vlad smiled as I sat at his feet, tearing at my hair, screaming, only seeing, but not comprehending all that was around me. Cneajna stood over me, long claw marks raked across her face and neck. Slowly, she moved to stand before me at Vlad’s side.
In my terror, I briefly remembered tearing at her face before escaping her coffin.
She gazed down at me, then said, “It has begun.”
Vlad’s smile broadened as his wives gathered around me. I scampered and fled into the chapel. He followed and found me huddled in the corner of the room. I was violently shaking beneath the tangled mass of my hair.
“My love?”
I spun about and hissed at him threateningly. My aquamarine eyes felt wide and they burned as I raged at him. My nails were long and sharp, like rapiers, and I felt the deadly points of my fangs against my lips.
Vlad laughed with utter delight. “You are becoming.”
Throwing back my head, I shrieked with the pain of the hunger.
Drawing a knife from his belt, Vlad drew the edge against his wrist. “Come, little one. Come and have a little taste of the coming feast.”
The dark droplets of blood caught my gaze and with feverish yearning, I reached out to him. My tongue snaked out from beneath my glistening fangs and licked the blood running from his fingers. My rabid mind only hungered as my mouth fastened to the wound and I drank. Vlad stroked my red tresses gently with his other hand as I fed. I could not feel anything beyond the desperate need to drink.
“Just a simple taste to hold off the madness,” he whispered to me.
It grows harder and harder to write my story. To realize that there was never any hope of escape from this madness only fuels my anger and resolve.
After Vlad fed me his blood, I fell into a stupor. Vlad lifted me into his arms and carried me to the chamber of the Brides.
The world was fluid, spinning around, shadows and light dancing about me. All I could hear was the sluggish beating of my pounding heart in my ears and the soft whispering voices of the shadows. I tasted blood on my lips and tongue and it was so sweet, so delicious.
All the images around me were disfigured, as if I was peering at the world through a crystal goblet. As the Brides of Dracula shifted about me, their hands moving over me and about my face, I became aware of their presence.
Ilona was wielding a large knife and Ariana was carrying away lengths of red fabric…no…hair. My hair. They were cutting my hair. And I was naked..no…they were dressing me in a fine, soft dress.
“Do you understand my words?” Cneajna asked softly, her distorted features swimming into view.
I did not answer, but stared at the dog lying at my feet. Did I own a dog? No, it was not a dog. It was a great gray wolf.
“Hello,” I whispered to the great beast.
“Why is she so drunken?” Elina’s voice pierced through my fuzzy thoughts.
“The Master’s blood took the edge off her hunger by clouding her mind.” Ilona’s face disappeared into the shadows.
Interesting.
The wolf sat up and rested his great head on my naked knee. I stared down into his dark eyes and felt his great presence filling the room.
Why was this dangerous predator among us?
Oh, yes, we were all predators in this room.
Vampires and wolves.
All except Ilona.
Ah, Ilona.
I whirled about in my chair and stared into the frightened gypsy's eyes. She froze, the brush she held in one hand suspended in midair. Those dark eyes surrounded by countless wrinkles were bound tightly to my gaze.
“Glynis, do not do this,” Cneajna whispered.
“Am I beautiful?” My voice floated softly on the night breeze.
The wolf raised his ears and growled deep in his throat.
“Very. Like an angel,” Ilona responded, her voice a soft monotone.
“Are my cheeks not rosy, so soft, like a rose?”
“Like a child’s.” Ilona’s hand was shaking violently but she could not tear her gaze from mine.
“Would you like to kiss my cheek? Like a mother kisses her child. Do you wish to kiss me?”
“Oh, yes!” Bright tears were glistening in Ilona’s eyes.
“Stop it now!” Cneajna’s voice was sharp.
I knew my eyes were glowing with my unholy lust in the flickering candlelight. “Kiss me.”
The gypsy woman began to bend down.
Elina stepped between us and slapped Ilona soundly, knocking her out of her trance. “Idiot woman!”
Ilona cried out in fright. Dropping the heavy brush, she darted from the room.
I growled furiously. How dare Elina frighten my prey away!
Cneajna grabbed hold of my chin and pulled my face to one side. I stared at her with fierce intensity.
“You are never to touch the servants. I know you are drunk with the hunger, but you must always remember this.”
I sighed. Everyone was spoiling my fun, and I was so hungry. I just wished they would stop playing with my clothes and hair and let me be. But to do what?
A smile caressed my lips.
Oh, yes, to feed.
The Journal of Lady Antoinetta
The Castle Dungeon
June 16th
I have sat here in this filth for days now. I am disgusted by my condition, but I am a prisoner and I am to suffer all that entails. May God curse Prince Vlad for all his evil!
The days are unbearable. The nights are worse. I hear screams in the night that terrify me. They sound like the voice of my daughter, my lovely headstrong Glynis.
My beloved Edric is dead. I recall all too vividly his death. How his blood fell on me like rain. I fear that May, too, is dead. I find myself praying that the monstrous master of this castle will kill me and let my soul be free.
That he allows me to write letters home and write in my journal is nothing more than another cruelty to bestow upon me. I know my letters to Andrew will go unread. At times, I find myself hoping desperately that Glynis will be able to take them to my son, but I know that is the wild hope of a doomed woman. I stare at my little stack of letters and want to weep.
I miss my beloved Andrew and his precious wife. I will never see their children. I know this and it breaks my heart.
May Prince Vlad burn in hell for what he has done to us!
So why now, after these horrible last days, do I pick up my pen and write in my journal?
It is because he brought her to me.
As the dungeon door swung open on rusted hinges, I rose up from where I had been seated on the filthy floor. Light pierced through the blackness of the cell. I drew upon some inner strength and lifted my chin, my hands smoothing out my dirty skirt.
After all, I am a Countess.
The lantern raised and revealed the sharp angular features of Prince Vlad Dracula. “It is I, madam.”
My stomach coiled into a tight knot. Was this then the time of my death? Had I waited here these last horrible days in this dreadful place tormented by the memory of my dear husband’s demise, fearing for my daughters, to only face death now? Well, if that was the truth, I would face it. To be released from this place even if it also means to be released from my earthly shell, so be it. I cannot endure this hell any longer.
“Why are you here?”
My voice was so calm.
Remarkable.
Prince Vlad seemed amused that even here in this dismal, filthy hole I still retained my dignity.
“You look well.”
“That is not an answer to my question,” I snapped at him.
Those too-red lips just pulled into a sinister smile. “I brought you a visitor.”
“May,” I whispered with hope.
“Oh, she is dead and gone,” Prince Vlad answered casually.
I clasped my hands over my heart and took hold of my rosary. I kissed it softly and raised my tear filled eyes. “May you burn in hell, sir. May you burn in hell!”
He laughed at my curse.
“You are a monster!” I held my tiny little crucifix in my hand and felt it warm against my fingers. I had noticed how he kept back from it, so I now raised it in his direction. I saw him flinch, and I laughed at him. “You know what you are! Damned! Cursed! You will burn for your evils!”
He hissed at me and drew back slightly. “I am not alone in my damnation, dear lady.”
From behind Prince Vlad emerged a woman dressed in a long filmy light blue gown made of the most delicate of silks. It shimmered in the light and was almost transparent. Countless jewels set in gold and silver encircled the woman’s limbs and throat. Long ropes of pearls and other precious stones were woven into her red hair. It took several moments before I realized that this voluptuous creature with the bright, aquamarine eyes and ruby lips was my own daughter.
“Glynis! No!”
The creature saw my cross and shrank back from it, whimpering.
The paralyzing truth dawned on me.
“No! You monster, how could you? How could you do this to her! You have cursed her!” I screamed at him. “You filthy, vile monster! May God damn you to the deepest pit in Hell!”
Prince Vlad chuckled at me. “Such language from a fine Catholic woman.”
“You are a devil!”
Prince Vlad smiled, his fingers playing with a lock of my daughter’s hair. “Yes, I am. And now, so is she.”
I thrust out my cross at him and he shrank back from the doorway. Glynis also cried out and covered her face. I quickly covered the cross with my fingers.
Prince Vlad laughed at me, recognizing my love for what it was: weakness. “Enjoy your visit.” He turned and swept out of the cell, leaving the lantern resting on the floor.
As the door slammed shut and the lock slid into place, my daughter raised gaze. My eyes shimmered with tears, my mouth trembled and I felt my strength leaving me.
“Oh, my darling, may God, the Virgin and the Saints have mercy on you.”
Glynis stared at me, her eyes sparkling like the finest jewels.
I was too horrified to feel immediately frightened, but as my daughter’s gaze grew more penetrating, more concentrated, I felt the first twinges. I gripped my little crucifix even tighter in my fingers, but did not reveal it to her. I did not want to see her flinch away.
“Glynis?”
“Yes,” was the low response.
I felt my throat constrict. “Do you know who I am?
“My mother.”
“Yes, cara mia, your mother. And you are my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“And your name is?”
Was she a devil in the guise of my daughter?
“Glynis.”
“Yes, that is right.”
She took a step toward me. “Are you afraid of me, Mother?”
I stared at her transformed countenance for a long moment, then began to weep. “Yes, cara mia, I am frightened.”
Glynis’ eyes slowly lowered and her face began to twitch. “So am I.”