Dracul's Revenge 01: Dracul's Blood

A Total-E-Bound Publication

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Dracul’s Blood

ISBN #978-0-85715-168-1

©Copyright Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

Cover Art by April Martinez ©Copyright June 2010

Edited by Claire Siemaszkiewicz

Total-E-Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated
Total-e-burning.

Dracul’s Revenge

DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne & T.A. Chase

To all those readers who supported me since I started this wonderful journey. Also, to Carol the best writing partner a person could ask for. I’ve enjoyed every moment. – T.A. Chase To Susie, who received a rough draft of this book and has practically memorized it. Thanks for all the support. For Theresa, thanks for keeping me organized and lending an ear when I need to whine about something. Most especially, thanks to T.A. Working with you has been the best experience a writer could ask for. Thanks for never telling me something is too weird for a story. – Carol Lynne

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Kool Aid: Kraft Foods Holdings, Inc. CORPORATION

Readers Digest: The Reader's Digest Association, Inc.

Camaro: General Motors Corporation

Sotheby’s: SPTC, Inc.

Charlie Chan: Fox Film Company

Freddy Krueger: Wes Craven, creator;

A Nightmare on Elm Street: New Line Cinema

Daily Racing Form: Daily Racing Form LLC LIMITED LIABILITY CORPORATION

DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

5

1447 A.D.

Radu took the urn of blood from his servant and passed it to the winemaker. “To breathe a word is your death,” he growled.

The withered man bowed and retreated into the night.

Radu turned back to the servant he’d spent many pleasurable hours fucking. “You followed my instructions?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The graves were abandoned by the time I arrived.”

“Excellent. Vengeance is at hand.” He leant down and kissed the servant. Although the boy had no hold on his heart, he had enjoyed the lad’s innocence. Too bad his companion was growing older and tainted by the duties he was ordered to perform.

Radu stepped back and stared down at his young lover. “I’ll have no further dealings in this matter. Once the wine is delivered to me, kill the maker and burn the vineyard. After the ceremony you will take one container to my brother with a note of congratulation. The remaining stock shall be placed in my cellar. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

6

Present Day

Morgan Thompson ran his hands over the small wooden crate that had just been delivered. How many years had he waited to get his hands on such a valuable commodity?

He opened the crate and lifted the miniature clay cask he’d spent tens of thousands of dollars to obtain. Electricity seemed to travel from his fingertips, up his arms to his head as he rubbed his thumb over the ancient seal. Sweat formed on his brow as he struggled to calm his breathing.

“Will that be all for the day, Mr. Thompson?” his butler asked.

Morgan quickly tried to hide the precious cask from view. “Yes, Thornton.”

What if he saw?
What if he tells the others?
He quickly looked around his study, knowing there was nowhere he could hide his precious elixir.
They’re everywhere, pawing through my
things night and day.
As soon as Thornton left the room, Morgan rushed to lock the door.

There was only one way to make sure no one took his precious find.

Morgan crossed back to the desk and began to tear at the thick, red wax that covered the top of the container.
I’ll not share my find with anyone.
He crossed to the liquor cabinet and pulled out his state-of-the-art bottle opener.

He managed to extract most of the cork, only a little remaining inside. Once the cask was open, he stared at his expensive purchase. A single sip was worth more than he paid his staff in a week.
That’s why Thornton and the others want it.

Morgan grinned as he poured the dark red liquid into a glass. Cask in hand, he carried both over to his chair beside the fireplace. He propped the cask against his cigar stand, making sure not to spill a drop. He swirled the precious wine, mesmerised by the way it clung to the sides of the glass. Although a heavy amount of sediment was evident, it was to be expected in one of the oldest wines ever found. Dark crimson in colour, blood immediately came to Morgan’s mind. “Oh, but you are beautiful,” he whispered.

He inhaled the bouquet, closing his eyes to isolate the individual ingredients used in the DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

7

making. With his mouth watering at the thought of actually tasting it, he carefully put the crystal to his lips and allowed the smallest amount into his mouth.

Tears sprang to Morgan’s eyes as he breathed out through his nose and savoured the flavours dancing on his tongue. Although bitter in taste, the thing he’d most wanted in the world had been worth every cent.

With each sip, his thirst grew. After the first glass, he greedily drank another, no longer taking his time. He heard footsteps above him and stared at the ceiling.
Thornton.

Morgan knew his butler was just waiting for him to abandon the precious wine before slipping down the stairs to drink it himself. They were all jealous of his money. It was his life, and there was no way he was sharing what he’d scarified life and love for, with the maggots that worked for him.

The choice to abandon the glass and drink straight from the cask was the logical one. The more he drank, the louder the voices. He could hear them talking, plotting to break into his study.

Morgan knew he was on his own. He was an island of one and his home was being invaded by traitors.
Kill or be killed.
Kill or be killed.
The phrase kept repeating in a loop through his mind as he continued to drink.

When the last of the wine hit his lips, Morgan shook the clay cask, needing another drop.

More. I need more.
The voices began again. This time his driver, Albert, as well as his housekeeper, Mary, were plotting against him.

Kill or be killed.
He rose from the chair and walked towards the fireplace. The brass shaft of the poker seemed to glow, calling to him. Morgan ran a finger over the filigreed handle before gripping it in his hand. He lifted it from its resting place and felt the comfortable balance of weight.

Kill or be killed
. Weapon in hand, Morgan opened the study door. His once peaceful home was now filled with betrayal. He knew Thornton was behind it. The fact that he’d been in Morgan’s employ for almost forty years seemed to mean nothing to the stoic Brit.

As the eighteenth century grandfather clock began to toll the midnight hour, Morgan climbed the curved staircase. Once on the second floor, Morgan turned down the servant’s wing. He stopped in front of Mary’s door. All was quiet, but he knew it was a trick.

Kill or be killed.
Morgan continued to Thornton’s room. With stealth not normally seen in a seventy-two year old man, he opened the door and entered the butler’s quarters. Thanks to DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

8

the moonlight shining through the window, he was able to study the aging man. How dare Thornton plot against him.

The first strike across the bridge of the nose caused Thornton to cry out. Morgan quickly shut the butler up before he could warn the others. A swift jab of the weapon to the man’s throat silenced him.

Morgan watched as the blood began to spurt from the wound. He was mesmerised and turned on the small bedside lamp. In awe, Morgan fell to his knees and watched as the sweet crimson wine he’d drank earlier flowed from Thornton onto the bed.

He leant forward and sealed his mouth over the hole, sucking the wine from the host vessel. With each slurp of the intoxicating fluid, Morgan felt younger, stronger.
I need more.

The ongoing mantra in his head changed to one word, over and over.
More.

When the blood red wine pouring from Thornton’s throat began to slow, Morgan rose to his feet.
More.

Weapon in hand, Morgan entered the room of his housekeeper. The need was stronger than his anger at Mary for keeping the secret from him. He held the heavy poker above the woman’s neck and plunged it through the flesh with all his renewed strength.

Mary’s eyes popped open at the moment of impact. The gurgling sounds coming from the open throat seemed to mock him. How dare she. In a fit of rage, he began pummelling her body, using the poker as if it were a baseball bat. With each satisfying crunch, Morgan felt more powerful.

By the time he knelt to drink from the neck wound, he couldn’t even recognise the bloody shape as his housekeeper.
More
.

After finishing with Mary, he started on his driver, Albert. He stood over the mutilated and drained body of the driver with a grin. His stomach began to spasm.
More.

Poker in hand, Morgan wandered into the street needing more. He wasn’t aware of the late night jogger until he was almost upon him. Morgan began to laugh as his target came within striking distance.

It didn’t take long before the man lay in a pool of blood. On his hands and knees, Morgan took all that he could from the thin man. He enjoyed the surprise in the jogger’s eyes at the first thwack of the brass poker. No longer was Morgan the reclusive millionaire who lived on the corner. He was a God.

O’Malley’s Pub came to mind. How many people were gathered at the neighbourhood DRACUL’S BLOOD

Carol Lynne and T.A. Chase

9

tavern? Would there be enough to satisfy his renewed hunger?