The Tale of the Vampire Bride (39 page)

“To visit whores?”

Vlad laughed at my impertinence. “Ladies of the night is what they are called, dear. So appropriate, is it not? I am going with Sir Stephen and will not be home until it is nearly dawn.”

“Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die,” I said flippantly.

“Jealous, wife?” Vlad asked, his eyes narrowing.

“No, not at all. Better them than me.”

Vlad laughed lightly, lifting a veil from the bed. “You will wear these.”

“I know,” I answered blandly. I would not argue with him on this point. Andrew’s safety meant too much to me.

Vlad turned to study me as I slumped in the chair looking very much the brat that I am. “You are free for the night, my wife. I will not hold you here. Go out and see the city. Hunt to your heart’s content. Seduce as many young men in their beds as you please. Just be home before dawn or you will burn in the sun.” Vlad hesitated, then said, “I would very much not like that to happen.”

“Because of your plans to move to England,” I said.

“Yes, of course” Vlad fastidiously plucked a bit of lint from his jacket then smiled at me. “Good night, wife.”

The door shut behind him and my expression changed from one of indifference to one of joy. I leapt across my room and began to ransack my closet for a fine dress and cloak to wear out into the night. I rang for the maid as I began to strip off my dress while somehow managing to dance about.

Magda entered her expression blank and ready to obey. “Yes, ma’am.?”

“Have the stableman hitch up the caleche for me and wake up that young driver.”

Magda bowed and immediately hurried away.

Once dressed in a lovely emerald dress with a black cloak tossed over my shoulders, I hurried down to my waiting caleche. It is the sweetest little thing, with an open top. The driver hurriedly helped me up into the carriage and clambered up onto his own seat. Then we were off down the curving drive.

“Where shall I take you, ma’am?” the driver asked.

“Into the heart of the city,” I responded.

The beautiful black horses trotted over the cobblestones streets, tossing their manes proudly as they pulled along my tiny carriage. The stars were brilliant above me and a luminous moon bathed the city with its unearthly glow. The caleche rolled sedately through the night past imposing churches with tall, sharp spires and elegant homes tucked into the sides of the hills, finding its way down the lanes lined with oak tress.

I sat in contented silence gazing out at the city where my family had spent their last happy days. I could almost imagine that the carriage was taking me back to Sir Stephen’s stately home and that I would find my family gathered in the parlor waiting for me.

But that was merely a dream.

I could feel the difference in not only myself but in the night. I was acutely aware of my surroundings, the shadows slithering along the walls, the thick gloom pooling in the trees, and the many nocturnal creatures slipping through the darkness. The night was alive with music. The music of nature. I could easily sort through the cacophony of sounds that drifted through the night: the sighing of the wind, the creaking of the tree limbs, animals scurrying about through the underbrush, a drunken man falling into a bush, the cries of a baby in the house we passed.

The horses trotted haughtily along the edge of the Danube. I leaned forward to gaze out at the dark waters. How beautifully the moonbeams danced on the waters, merrily skipping over the waves. I smiled to myself and sighed with bittersweet contentment.

May and I had picnicked on the shores of the Danube with some young Hungarian aristocrats soon after our arrival in Buda. It had been a glorious day full of sunshine and laughter.

The driver turned the caleche onto the pontoon bridge and soon we were in the city of Pesth that lay across the river from Buda. It was the poorer, more thickly populated area of the two cities. The laughter and drunken singing of those still prowling the night began to drift on the wind and a feral smile spread on my ruby lips.

“Driver, leave me here,” I ordered.

“It is not such a safe place, ma’am,” the driver cautioned me.

“I am not such a safe lady, driver,” I responded with a sly smile.

The predator within me was alive and hungry. My eyes were glittering and I could feel the sharpness of my gaze as I looked upon him. The blood lust was beginning to rise within me and the mere thought of the hunt was making my body tingle with anticipation.

I let myself down from the caleche and turned to peer up into the anxious face of the young driver. His eyes were such a lovely shade of green. They reminded me of spring when the trees are in full bloom and the English countryside is a lush paradise. As I smiled up at him, I felt my long teeth slowly edge downward. Fear blossomed in his beautiful gaze. I not only saw, but also felt the tensing of his body. Prey is always frightened in the presence of a predator.

“Listen carefully, driver,” I said gently, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “I want you to go somewhere safe, where you will not have to worry about being accosted. An hour before dawn, return here for me. I will be waiting. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am. I will return here,” the driver promised fervently.

“Then be off with you!”

I waved my hands at the horses and they immediately swung about, disappearing into the night.

Whirling about, I stared down the darkened street lined with taverns. This was good hunting ground. Several men drunkenly stumbled out of the shadows, singing enthusiastically at the top of their lungs. The funny thing was that each one was singing a different song. As they neared me, they abruptly stopped their off-key chorus and stared at me stupidly.

“A fine young lady such as yourself should not be here,” one of them managed to slur after a moment. From the lascivious look in his eyes, I could vividly see his point. But I am no ordinary young lady.

“Someone as smelly and drunk as you should not be speaking to a young lady such as myself,” I retorted flippantly.

With a grin, the man swaggered out of the grasp of his comrades and broadly smiled at me. He could have been handsome if he were not missing so many teeth. “I would love to escort the young lady back to her home.”

I laughed, tossing my head. “Really? Well, I would rather that you did not. Now why do you not go home before something very wicked happens to you.”

“Leave her alone, Bela,” one of the other men said shortly.

Bela just smiled, reaching out his grimy hand to me. “Come on. Let me take you home.”

I was tired of this game and stomped my foot indignantly. “Leave now or you will regret it!”

“I bet your father would pay a nice sum if I return you safety to him,” Bela decided. He pondered this thought, then began to nod vigorously. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”

Bela made an off-balance grab for my arm. When I jerked away, he teetered on his toes, his arms flailing. He nearly toppled over, but managed to straighten himself. Focusing on me, the inebriated man once more attempted to take hold of me.

Enough was enough.

I caught his arm as he lunged toward me and swiveled about, dragging him into a wide arc. As his body gained momentum, I released him. He flew through the air, arms and legs pumping in vain. He landed with a resounding crash in a pile of refuse.

Satisfied, I whirled about, wiped my hands on my cloak, and continued my stroll down the street. I could not help but be vaguely amused by the shocked exclamations being uttered by the drunks as they helped Bela to his feet.

Past all sorts of hideous, yet intriguing places, I strolled along in contented silence. I felt the full extent of my power over this mundane world and I relished in it. Nothing could truly touch me or hurt me. I stood atop the mortal world, untouchable and content. I was nearly drunk with the thought of my power.

As I journeyed on, I pushed through crowds gathered around brawlers, sidestepped drunkards passed out on the road, nodded my head to barely clothed women seductively luring men off the streets into their bordellos, and smiled at small children trying to hawk tobacco.

“Should you not be home in bed?” I asked one particularly dirty little boy.

“How much do you cost?” he responded, his blue eyes taking in my velvet cloak and fine dress. “You look expensive.”

“You could never afford me,” I answered glibly.

“I have a bit saved up,” the boy assured me. His dark eyebrows lifted on his dirty face as he gave me a devastatingly irresistible, yet cocky smile.

I was charmed by the boy and could not help but smile down at him. “Why do you not buy food with that money instead?”

“You are much more interesting,” he responded with a smirk.

The boy was probably no older than twelve. I was not sure if it was my vampire beauty or his blossoming manhood that was obviously provoking the boy’s interest in me. I was amused by his flagrant flirtation, but a little saddened by it. This was not a child, but a small man trapped in a young boy’s body. The bruises on his face told of beatings and there was hollowness in his eyes that spoke of hardship.

“Here,” I said, fishing a coin out of my purse. “Buy a loaf of bread and go home.”

The boy took the coin with a weary sigh. “Then you reject me?”

“You are far too young,” I chided him. “Your mother is probably worried about you. Rush on home.”

“She is busy working.” He jerked his head toward the nearest bordello.

“Oh,” was all I could manage. I dropped another coin into his grubby hand and tenderly patted his matted hair.

With one last smile, I began to prowl through the streets of Buda. I felt the pangs of the hunger, but I had yet to find anyone that looked appealing to me. I was not yet starving, so I could be very picky about my victim. Everyone was far too dirty, too drunk, or just too ornery to suit me. I desired young, fresh blood, full of life: not blood stale and thin from a weary life.

The streets became quieter as I moved along and soon I was lost in the maze of streets and buildings. It was here that many of the poorer inhabitants of Pesth slumbered in their beds in the shadow of the more illustrious Buda. I began to consider calling out and seeing which window opened. Time was quickly ticking away. I would soon have to return to Buda and the mansion.

A strangled scream broke me out of my contemplation.

Startled, I whirled about, my heavy skirt swishing around my ankles. My eyes glowed with dark fires as I gazed around me, peering into the darkness, examining every shadow.

Sly laughter drifted languidly on the night breeze.

Another vampire!

I was running before I could even finish the thought. Hands clutching my heavy skirts up around my knees, I dashed down the street and around the nearest corner. It was there I came to an abrupt halt.

In the shadows, a man was lying on the ground, a woman leaning over him. Her long blond hair fell in a wild disarray of unfettered curls covering her face. Deep, urgent growls uttered forth from her throat as she gnawed at the fallen man’s throat. The hands gripping the man’s head were dark with dirt and her nails were black and broken. The dark blue dress she wore was torn at the seams and frayed around the hem.

I could only stare in fascination as the rumpled creature tore at the man, grunting with the dark desire of the hunger.

Quite suddenly the other vampire sensed that someone was near, and her head snapped up. Eyes glowing like the fires of Hades, her gaze swept over the street and finally came to rest on me. A harsh growl uttered forth from her throat.

“Please, I do not wish to-“ I began to say softly, but a commotion nearby shut off my words.

“Over here!”

It was a man’s voice that shouted, breaking the silence of the night.

I automatically slunk backwards into a doorway and enshrouded myself in the shadows.

The vampire whirled about on her hands and knees just as several young men elegantly dressed in fine black suits raced into the street. They took in the ghastly scene before them with horrified expressions and several crossed themselves.

“She attacked Richard,” shouted a young man with fiery red hair.

He had an accent I did not recognize.

It took a mere moment for me to realize that the men did not seem shocked by the scene before them. In fact, they seemed extremely excited by the whole situation. Several were actually smiling. Only the red haired man seemed to show any remorse at all over witnessing the death of his comrade.

I realized then that they were vampire hunters.

I immediately shrank further into the darkness.

The vampire hissed wildly as the men advanced on her. Scrambling backwards, she perched atop her victim and growled menacingly at the vampire hunter. Without hesitation, one of the men pulled a huge cross from his overcoat and she shrieked in horror.

“Run,” I whispered fervently. “Run!”

The vampire did not run. She leapt. With a scream, she flung herself upwards, sailing over the heads of the men. Her bare feet hit the cold stones and she was off, running like the crazed vampire she truly was. She was one of those the madness had never left.