Dracul (19 page)

Felix doesn’t fixate on the teleporting issue. “Constantine is going to track down whoever Gane works for. I’m guessing he doesn’t have a significant personal connection to the guy, so he’ll probably have to go there physically.”

“But in what form? There are no roads leading to or from Constantine’s castle. He’s not going to travel in human form. And if you’ll remember, he specifically said he doesn’t take on bat form.”

“He’s a vampire. What other form could he possibly take?”

“I don’t know. I was headed to the bathroom. Give me a minute and I’ll think about it.”

“Fine.” Felix shrugs. “I was going to get breakfast. Want me to get you something?”

“All the scrambled eggs and bacon you can find. And coffee.”

While I shower and dress, I’m mulling the question we don’t know the answer to—does Constantine turn into anything? He said he can’t turn into a bat. But he has fangs and he’s cold to the touch and he can teleport. He’s sensitive to sunlight and almost completely immortal—I witnessed that last part in person when he pulled the stake from his ribs.

He’s a vampire that can’t turn into a bat. What does that make him really?

Fifteen minutes later, I don’t have any answers, but I do have breakfast.

Felix also has a theory. “He had to have been lying to you when he said he can’t turn into a bat. He’s a vampire. Of course he can turn into a bat.”

“Why do you think that?” I’m munching bacon and sipping coffee, which puts me in a more amiable mood.

“He said he followed you and Mom and Wren and Zilpha back to Montana years ago, and he followed you again when the bats were following you three weeks ago. You flew across the ocean. He couldn’t have followed you in human form. He has to be able to fly. He must be able to change into a bat.”

“Can a bat even fly fast enough to keep up with a dragon? We flew over the Atlantic Ocean. That’s a long way. Even dragons get ravenous after flying that long. How could a bat—”

“I don’t know. They turn smaller instead of bigger. Maybe that conserves energy. Anyway, the other vampires followed you, so…”

But I’ve already thought of something else. “What about the vampires that came over the fence last night? They had wings. They were in human form, but they used their bat wings to get over the fence, then they folded them up and I don’t recall seeing them again.”

Felix narrows his eyes. “We can do that, too—change one part of our body into dragon form for a brief time, sprout wings or extend our claws without changing our whole bodies—but I’ve never tried to maintain that form for any length of time. Do you think Constantine could really fly across the entire Atlantic in winged human form?”

“Just because you’ve never tested the boundaries doesn’t mean he’s not skilled at it. He’s had way over five hundred years to practice. Besides, he’s supposed to be one of the higher order types of vampire. They have more dragon blood in them—it gives them stronger abilities.”

Felix chews a mouthful of bacon thoughtfully. “Why can’t he change into a bat, anyway? Can’t all the other vampires change into bats? What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” I stab scrambled eggs with my fork. “Maybe all those months he spent buried alive, almost dead but unable to die. Maybe it changed him.”

“I’m still going to Europe to try to follow him.”

“They bury people alive over there.”

“That was hundreds of years ago.” Felix sips his coffee. “I’m not afraid.”

“That’s what scares me.”

Chapter Nineteen

In spite of all my protests, Felix insists on traveling to Europe to track down Constantine and follow him. He’s obstinate and driven by his desire to learn how to make gold, which is the same desire that drives our enemies, a fact that is blatantly clear to me, though Felix can’t seem to grasp why it’s relevant.

“I don’t want you becoming so gold-hungry you lose who you are.” I’m still trying to argue him out of his quest.

“Dragons hoard gold. It makes us who we are.”

“Does it?” I’m not convinced.

“If it makes you feel better, I will err on the side of safety whenever possible.”

It doesn’t make me feel much better, but I’ve tried everything I can to get him to stay. He’s a dragon. We’re free-willed creatures, highly independent and infinitely stubborn.

“Besides,” Felix reminds me, “if this works, I’ll reconnect you to Constantine. You want that, don’t you?”

And what can I say to that? I want to see Constantine again. It’s strange how much I care about him, about seeing him again and learning more about all the mysteries that surround him. Still. “I don’t want you risking your life for this. Constantine and I can’t be together anyway, remember?”

“You shouldn’t have kids together,” Felix acknowledges, “but I don’t see why that means you have to spend the rest of your immortal lives avoiding each other.”

I can’t help smiling. For being a smarty-pants kid brother, sometimes Felix really gets it right. “You tell him that next time you talk to him, okay?”

“I plan to.”

So Felix leaves and I hunker down and work on my thesis paper and the rest of my schoolwork, because even though it’s gotten overshadowed by all this vampire drama, finishing this paper is still the primary goal of my college career.

Spring Break starts in less than two weeks. We get a whole week off from classes. Combined with weekends on either side, that leaves nine full days—plenty of time for me to fly to Romania and back again if I need to.

I gave Felix explicit instructions to call me if he needs anything or has any updates to give. He knows about Spring Break, and knows I have every intention of flying to that castle to see him if I don’t hear from him before then. And Felix has cell phones that work on both continents (it’s crazy how many phones we carry anymore, but with family stretched from Africa to Siberia, North America to northern Scotland, we have phones that work wherever we’re visiting), so he has no excuse for not calling.

I get a text from him in the morning of the Friday before Spring Break, the very day I’m planning to leave for Romania as soon as I’m done with my last class.

So I’m thrilled to see the text, even if it doesn’t tell me a whole lot.

Lots to tell you. Too much to say over the phone. Can’t wait for you to get here.

Which is encouraging, at least, though he doesn’t specifically mention Constantine or any of what’s happened. Still, it keeps me flying at top cruising speed the whole way to the castle. By leaving Friday after my last class and resting a couple of times, floating on my back on the Atlantic Ocean for some tuna and a nap, I arrive in the bright sunlight of early Monday morning (I lose nine hours flying east across the time zones—the trip has fewer effective hours going home with the sun, and thus it seems “shorter” on the westward haul).

Even if Constantine is home, he should be asleep or at least hiding out in his tower.

Still, his tower has windows, so I try to stay hidden behind the well as I quench my thirst after my long flight, and then I dart stealthily toward the castle room which Felix always preferred.

He’s in there, sitting on a chair, eyes closed, wearing headphones, softly muttering something incomprehensible. I dump my heavy backpack on the floor and walk tentatively toward him.

“Felix?” I’m immediately concerned he’s gone mad. “What are you doing?”

He lowers the headphones and smiles at me. “I’m learning Romanian. It’s a podcast. Thought it might come in handy.”

That’s right. My brother has a thing for learning languages. He taught himself Russian and French in the last year, after visiting Russia and France and feeling ignorant for not knowing how to communicate with the locals. It only makes sense he’d want to learn Romanian now. I breathe a sigh of relief.

Felix rises from the chair. “You’re just in time. Constantine should be back any moment. He went out to hunt for breakfast.”

“So, he knows you’re here?” I pull clothes from my backpack and slip them on over the bikini-like garments I wear when I’m in dragon form. March in the mountains of Romania can be chilly, especially in the early morning.

“I don’t think he’s seen me. He stays in his tower most of the time, when he’s even here. I only know what he’s up to this morning because I’ve watched him do this several times now—fly off for breakfast and return with food.”

My stomach grumbles at the mention of food. As usual after a long flight, I’m famished. “Are you sure the bats haven’t told him you’re here?”

“He said our family is always welcome, so I don’t think they’ve raised the alarm. If he knows I’m here, he hasn’t given any indication. He was gone for all of last weekend and this weekend. He must have teleported away, because I didn’t see him leave. Didn’t see him at all from Friday morning until he went for breakfast this morning. Anyway, I want to explain a few things before you see him.” Felix takes my arm and leads me to the door, where we peek through the slightly-ajar doorway into the open courtyard.

“Explain away. I’m eager to hear.” I try to encourage Felix to speak, but he’s just standing there with a perplexed expression on his face, like he doesn’t know where to begin.

Finally he asks, “How do we
know
Constantine is a vampire?”

“Well, let’s see. He has fangs.”

“So do we.”

“Not really. Dragon fangs are way bigger than vampire fangs. And anyway, he got impaled by a wooden stake—I saw the wound—it would have killed a mere human, but it missed his heart so he’s still alive. Also, he can talk to bats.”

“Have you seen him talk to bats?”

“They don’t use words, you know. Communal communication, or something.” I try to recall the exact words Constantine used.

“What else?”

“He’s cold to the touch. Ice cold. Have you ever touched him?”

“I brushed his hand a couple times playing cards, and then he helped us over the stone wall. But it was cold outside that night, so maybe his skin was just cold. And lots of people have cold hands.”

“What are you saying? You’re saying you don’t think he’s really a vampire? He already admitted he’s Vlad Dracula’s older brother.”

“His dad was a dragon, right?” Felix asks. There’s something more on his face, meaning his words can’t begin to convey, though I’m not clear what he’s telling me.

“That’s what he told us.”

“What do we know about his mother?”

“Nothing. They all had different mothers.” Suddenly I have an inkling of what Felix may have been attempting to communicate with his face. “We don’t know anything about his mother. She could have been anyone…or anything. What do you think she was?”

“I have an idea.” Felix stares out into the open courtyard.

“What?” I’m hungry and exhausted and not at all in the mood for games.

“Just watch. I’m not even going to begin to try to explain this. Just watch.”

So I hold on to the doorframe because honestly I’m not sure how long I can stand unsupported. And I stare into the courtyard for what feels like a long time. “He’s biologically immortal,” I whisper to Felix.

“Do you know that for a fact?”

“I’m pretty much completely sure.” How could I prove it to my brother, though? Constantine is clearly way, way older than he looks. There’s his ability to speak and read Old Romanian, his familiarity with events of history no modern people know about…tons of stuff.

“He can teleport,” I add, kicking myself internally for not thinking of it sooner.

“So can dragons,” Felix whispers.

“Some dragons,” I remind him, since no one in our family seems to be able to do it.

“Shh,” Felix points to a shadow breaking across the courtyard.

I look up.

A deep-red, almost blood-red dragon coasts over the wall of the courtyard, with the gutted carcass of a deer dangling from his teeth. He sets down on the cobblestones near the well, blows a blast of fire to roast the deer, then pauses, inhales deeply, and freezes.

The red dragon looks our way.

Maybe I should duck completely out of sight, but I cannot move. I have never seen such a gorgeous dragon, all muscled and ancient looking, shimmering in the morning sunlight.

Breathtaking.

The dragon moves his head, scanning the side of the courtyard where we’re hiding. Then his eyes lock on mine.

Those are Constantine’s eyes.

The dragon has Constantine’s eyes.

Constantine has dragon eyes—eyes that can see better and further than human eyes, eyes that can communicate without words. Right now, they’re saying
I see you. You’re not supposed to be here.

Then he disappears, evaporating instantly from sight.

“Where did he go?”

“Probably to put some clothes on,” Felix predicts. “You weren’t supposed to let him see you.”

“I didn’t. I was hiding, but he looked right at me.” I’m mostly stupefied, trying to come to grips with what I’ve seen. “He’s a dragon.”

“Sure looks like it to me.”

“Why would he lie to me about that?”

“I have some theories.” Felix frowns. “None of them good.”

“I’m starving.” I open the door and head for the deer carcass Constantine left behind.

“What are you doing?” Felix follows me into the open sunlight.

“If he’s not going to eat it, I’m not going to let it go to waste.” I hurry to the carcass, blow another blast of fire on it, then tear off a hindquarter and start eating. It’s still very, very rare, but I don’t care. I’m hangry and I need to eat before I lose my temper completely. “He told me he couldn’t be out in sunlight,” I fume between bites.

“I can’t.” Constantine’s voice comes from right behind me. “Not in human form, anyway.”

I turn to see him standing in the courtyard, wearing a dark, hooded cloak that completely shields his face from the sunlight. His eyes burn like smoldering coals from the shadows.

“You told me you were a vampire.” I brandish the leg of venison at him like a weapon. This may not be the most mature move I’ve made lately, but it feels right.

“I am.”

“You’re a freaking dragon! I saw you!”

“It’s complicated,” he says flatly.

“No, it’s really not. You’re a dragon. You lied to me. Why would you lie to me? Why? Because you don’t want me to like you? Because you don’t like me? Because you want me to just go away and leave you alone? You could have said that! I’m a big girl. I can handle the truth.” I might be sort of stomping toward him, swinging the deer leg at his face in a manner that does not entirely fit the “big girl” title I assigned myself, but right now, I don’t care.

“You lied to me because you don’t like me!” I’ve got him nearly backed against the courtyard wall now, and I’m ready to clobber him with the venison.

“I love you, Rilla. I love you.” He catches my hand as I’m about to swing.

“No you don’t. You lied to me, and you made me feel bad for not telling you I’m a dragon. Well, who’s a dragon now, huh?”

Since he’s holding the venison firmly in front of my face where I can’t brain him with it, I take a big bite because, as I may have mentioned before, I’m starving, and that’s not helping my ability to cope right now.

“Listen.” He’s still holding my wrist with one hand, but he slips his other arm around my waist and sort of props me up, because apparently I was starting to sag into a big pile of emotionally-spent dragon woman.

It happens.

“I was born a dragon,” Constantine explains. “My father and mother were both dragons. But…do you remember what I told you about the experiments the sultan’s magi performed on my brothers?”

“Yeah?” I tear off another bite of venison with my teeth while I listen.

“They performed experiments, not only on my brothers, but on dragons and other vampires over the course of many centuries. They recorded their results in a book, and my brothers learned what those results were. Remember that I said the blood of a vampire is a powerful thing? It can undo you?”

“I never really understood what you meant by that,” I confess.

“It undid me.” We’re in the shadows under the second floor balcony, out of the direct sunlight. Constantine’s hood has slid back somewhat and I can see his face more clearly now.

I missed this face so much the past couple of weeks. But then he turned out to be a lying jerk. I tear another bite of venison.

“One of the reasons my brother preferred to impale his victims through the heart, was so they could not be brought back.”

“I don’t understand.”