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Authors: Kate Cary

Bloodline (17 page)

BOOK: Bloodline
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“Lily was chosen at birth to be Quincey’s bride,” Rosemary told me.

“Chosen?” I asked. “By whom?”

“By Count Tepes, son of Dracula,” Rosemary explained. “Twenty years ago I was seduced by him. I bore him a child—a boy.”

I could hardly breathe.
John—my own love?
He carries the Tepes blood?

“Afterward, I bore the child of my husband, a daughter. Tepes determined that she would be a mate for his first son, Quincey.”

For a few seconds the horror of what I had just learned rendered me speechless. I understood now what Quincey Harker had meant by destiny.

John was sired by one of these monsters—and Lily surrounded by them her whole life.

Then I shook my head. “How could you have given your son and daughter to these vile creatures?” I asked, the abhorrence clear in my voice.

Rosemary looked away in shame. “The same thing that brings Lily here ensnared me too.”

“Love?” I asked.

“Desire,” Rosemary answered. “When Quincey enthralled my daughter, he awoke something in her she will not be able to ignore—until it is satisfied.”

With a pounding heart, I believed her, for I had seen with my own eyes the quivering state to which Quincey was able to reduce poor sweet Lily. I staggered over to one of the windows and opened it, gulping desperately at the cold night air.

After a moment, I felt Rosemary’s cold hand on my arm. “You should not lean out so; it is a long way to fall.”

I sat back on my chair and Rosemary took my hand. “Lily
must
be saved from the same fate as mine,” she said.

“But how?” I asked. “There is no way to escape.”

“I know of a secret tunnel down to the valley. It comes out not far from the village.” Rosemary’s eyes glistened as she spoke.

I leaned forward in my chair, my heart hammering with hope. I gazed deep into Rosemary’s red-rimmed eyes and wondered if we could trust her.

“Come, I will show you the entrance,” she told me, rising. I followed her out of the bedroom to the huge studded front door.

With some difficulty, she turned the great handle. It opened with a yawning clunk. I looked toward the great staircase, fearful that we had been heard by the vampires
within the house. But there was no sign of movement. I crept after Rosemary into the cobbled courtyard.

“Here,” she whispered. She hurried toward a great flagstone in the middle of the cobblestone drive. It was weathered and smooth at the edges and I could see a huge iron ring had been bolted in—a handle to lift it, no doubt.

“The entrance is beneath this stone …” Rosemary began.

A flutter of wings high overhead startled me. Swooping down toward the castle was a huge black bat. As it flew lower, I heard a squalling, crying sound, like that of a lamb separated from its mother.

Something dangled from the bat’s claws—a cloth bag, which squirmed as though some creature struggled inside it.

Rosemary gazed up, a sorrowful look creasing her face. “It is an infant for Tepes,” she murmured sorrowfully. “Babe’s blood—the most powerful rejuvenator—for him to consume at sundown tomorrow. It will give him strength to attend the wedding ceremony.”

I gasped, horrified. “But—we can’t let them kill it. We must stop them!”

“And steal from Tepes?” Rosemary’s eyes widened with fear. “No. Let us return to Lily, who needs us more.”

And so, I am recording these horrors here at Lily’s bedside, while she continues her uneasy slumber and Rosemary bathes her fevered brow.

It seems I cannot dispute that John is Tepes’s son and Quincey Harker’s half brother. It is no matter. John’s nature is good and true. He will resist the evil influence of his bloodline and join us in our attempt to escape.

Journal of
Lieutenant John Shaw

28TH
N
OVEMBER
(CONTINUED)

Full of resolve, I rose and slipped from Lily’s bedroom, where Mary and my sister still slept. I found Quincey in the drawing room. He sat in one of the ornate armchairs.

“Good evening, brother,” he said.

“You cannot hold us here,” I told him.

“You cannot escape your destiny,” he replied calmly.

“We are leaving. Tonight,” I stated.

Quincey stood and whirled on me. “If you try it, you will be killed! You and Lily and your precious fiancée! Is that what you want?”

“I will kill you
first,
” I threatened. My collar felt tight around me as my neck throbbed with rage “I will come while you sleep and knock down any door that stands in my way. I will hammer stakes through your heart, you unnatural monster!”

Quincey reared his hand back and struck me across the face.

It was merely a slap, yet the force of the blow threw me backward. I flew through the air and crashed into the far wall of the room. I landed hard and scrambled to my knees.

Quincey strode over and stared down at me impassively. “This urge to destroy your own kind will not last long,” he promised. He turned and left the room.

“I despise you!” I screamed. Quincey paid me no mind.

“There is no other way than this, John,” he called over his shoulder. “You will see.”

I swore at Quincey’s back. But my threat echoed back to me—empty and hollow—in the great room.

I sank down and began to weep with anger and despair.

A moment later, I turned at the rustle of satin beside me. Mina stood before the fire.

“You are a fool to weep,” her voice said smoothly.

“Why?” I spat the word at her. “Why am I a fool? I am impotent here—powerless over my destiny. I am prey, an insignificant life, toyed with by all of you—until the appointed hour.”

Mina smiled. Her sharp teeth glinted in the firelight. “But John,” she said. “You are not one of the prey; you are a predator. You will only be weak so long as you fight against your true nature.”

A wickedly playful look glittered in her eye. “Accept your destiny. Then you may challenge Quincey—and beat him.”

“No!” I shouted. “No!”

I ran from the drawing room. Perhaps there was still a chance for me to save what is good and true.

Journal of
Mary Seward

28TH
N
OVEMBER
(CONTINUED)

John returned near midnight, hammering wildly on our door. “We must leave this place right now!” he exclaimed. He strode over to the bed, threw back Lily’s covers, and scooped her in his arms. “You will come too, Mother,” he said.

Rosemary turned her eyes away. “If only I could, John. But what happens when sunrise comes?” She looked at him then. “I was lost to you years ago. Take Lily and Mary. There is still a chance for you.” She gently kissed them both, then drifted over to the door to return to her dark resting place.

“Your mother has told me of a secret passage,” I told John, grabbing Van Helsing’s bag. “Follow me.”

Nothing stood in our way as we made our way to the front door. I turned the heavy handle and pulled it open. The courtyard beyond was shrouded in mist, but I could see the flagstone entrance to the tunnel ahead of us. We were close to freedom!

“Come! We are nearly there,” I called out.

“Yes, but you would be wiser to return.”

Quincey Harker’s voice behind us struck horror once more into my heart. I took the bottle of holy water from my pocket, swung round, and held it up toward him. “You cannot stop us!” I shouted, refusing to be dominated by the fear that rose inside me.

He raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Is that so?” he said coolly. But I saw his eyes, tinged red with fury at my audacity. He looked out at the forests beyond.

A great howl rose in the misty night air.

The wolves.

“The wolves will not harm me,” John said in a voice as calm as Harker’s. I looked at him, unnerved by the similarity.

“They will do as I command them to,” Harker told him quietly. “They might recognise your bloodline, but they observe my leadership.”

Into the courtyard came the wolves, saliva dripping from their sharp white fangs. My heart sank as I saw them creep forward, their rippling pelts obscuring the flagstone that was to have been our gateway to safety.

Quincey stared at John. “I told you. They will sooner rip you all to shreds. There is no escaping your fate.”

I gazed at John—at Lily hanging limply in his arms. It was more than I could bear. We were trapped between two terrible ends.

John stared back at me, his eyes wild with indecision.

I grasped his arm and led him back inside.

Seeing their sport retreat, the wolves rushed up to the doorway, but Harker held up his hand. “No,” he growled.

Immediately the wolves halted and sank to the ground.

As Harker shut the door on them, I turned and led John back up to Lily’s room.

Our latest failure seems to have broken John. He has stormed out. I cannot bear to think what will happen now.

As I write, I can see the wolves milling around the courtyard. A feeling of claustrophobia threatens to overwhelm me.

We are utterly at Quincey Harker’s mercy.

Journal of
Lieutenant John Shaw

28TH
N
OVEMBER
(CONTINUED)

All hope is gone now. I am but a waste of a man, unable to protect myself—or those I love—from the darkness.

After our attempt at escape, I placed Lily back in her bed and installed Mary at her side. I could not look at either of them—I had failed them so miserably.

I left to wander the halls of the castle.

These dank walls will contain me for the rest of my days, I thought. I shall never see England again, and my dear Mary will never have her wedding in the sunshine.

I cursed myself then—and cursed Quincey all the more. I would damn him to hell for dragging us all into this nightmare, but it seemed that he, and all of us, already resided there.

Come … Come to me …

I heard a whisper, echoing softly in the corridor.

Come to me, my sweet …

Whose voice was it that beckoned?

Was it Mary’s? Was she in danger?

I followed the sound. It drew me down a dimly lit passageway toward a door. Behind the heavy wood, I could hear someone whimpering.

I turned the knob and entered silently.

Inside the room was a huge four-poster bed, its heavy canopy draped in purple velvet. A red-haired young woman was curled up on one side of it, sobbing quietly.

Mina Harker stood on the other side. She gazed at the girl, her eyes smoldering. “Come to me, my pet. I swear you will feel no pain.”

The girl’s tear-reddened eyes grew wide with fear as Mina lay down beside her.

“Come, my innocent,” Mina crooned. “Turn to me.”

The girl turned. Immediately her face took on the aspect
of one mesmerised. She was enthralled by Mina’s stare. Her sobbing ceased.

She embraced Mina then, and my eyes were drawn to the lines of her body, showing through her flimsy undergown.

“Do not be afraid,” Mina cooed. “You shall feel more pleasure than pain.”

The girl shuddered, yet continued to lie in the arms of this temptress. I stood and watched, enthralled by the tension that filled the room.

Mina stroked the girl’s flushed cheek. She let her fingers trail on down the girl’s neck and along her shoulder. She pushed away the thin fabric to expose the curve of a breast. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

Mina looked up at me then, her mouth curled into a knowing smile. “Is she not splendid?” she purred.

I could not answer. A stirring began in my belly I had never felt before.

“Such soft skin,” Mina whispered. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss on the girl’s forehead. Then she lowered her lips to the girl’s mouth and then her neck. She kissed the girl again and again, moving lower with each touch of her lips toward the girl’s now heaving bosom. I felt my own passion stirring. It grew as I heard the girl groan with pleasure.

I drew closer to the bed, eager to see what Mina would do next.

The girl lay back against the lilac bedding, her eyes closed. As Mina continued to caress her, I could see a pulse flickering at the base of her creamy throat. A tiny moan escaped me at the sight of it.

Mina licked her lips, then drew them back to reveal her sharp fangs. In a swift movement she lunged down and sank her teeth into the girl’s arched, willing flesh.

Her eyes jerked open in panic and fluttered unseeingly as she flailed against Mina’s hold. But Mina clung on, pressing the girl down. Twitching with pleasure, she sucked the lifeblood from her.

Though I shuddered in horror at the sight, my body throbbed with a rapture I could not control. When Mina was done, she lifted her head to watch me. Seeing my excitement, she left the dazed and gasping girl on the bed and wrapped herself around me.

She kissed me then with lips still warm and wet with blood. The iron tang of it exhilarated me—consumed me. I surrendered, pulling Mina closer, relishing the softness of her body beneath my hands. Her lips dragged away from mine and pressed their way along my jaw toward my neck.

I knew what she intended to do.

I heard myself whisper, “No …” But my body overruled me. It arched forward, desperate for that final kiss, the one that would sink me into darkness forever. We sank, entwined
to the floor. And when the sweet agony of her piercing bite gripped me, I convulsed with an ecstasy I could never have imagined.

I awoke in the room sometime later to find myself alone.

I was not dead, and for a brief moment I hoped against all reason that the dark activities had been a product of my tormented mind. But as I heaved myself from the rug, I felt tenderness in my neck, then saw drops of blood on the ruffled lilac sheets.

I remembered Dr. Seward’s notes.

Mina’s kiss has begun my transformation from mortal to immortal.

What have I done?

Journal of
Mary Seward

29TH
N
OVEMBER 1916

Lily awoke just before dawn. The fire in the grate cast a rosy glow over her pale skin. “Mary?” she whispered.

I gave her water to drink and stroked her hair as she gradually roused into full wakefulness.

BOOK: Bloodline
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