Jessica's Guide to Dating on the Dark Side (44 page)

"Me."

"Yes. He didn't want you to suffer eternity with a monster—in the more technical sense of the term. You know, someone capable of terrible cruelty . .." Dorin trailed off. "But now
he
suffers."

I looked at my traveling companion. "What do you mean?"

"Lucius needs you. He mourns you. He
loves
you. It's very unusual for a vampire to truly love. Some hold that real love between vampires is a myth. That we are too vicious by nature. But Lucius does. He loves you—as you love him."

I wanted, more than anything, for Lucius to love me. But I was still hurt. "Didn't he realize that the crudest thing he could do was leave me?"

"He thought you would recover quickly, get on with your life. That's what teenagers do, right? 'Bounce back'?"

"But I'm not a normal teenager."

"Of course not." Dorin paused. "Lucius thought he did you a favor, though. At great cost to his own heart. Tremendous cost.

My eyes filled with tears, like they always did when I thought of Lucius. "I miss him so much."

"Of course. But you must be prepared when you see him. His dark side really does grow more powerful every day. He destroyed Vasile, you know."

"What?" I didn't think I'd heard right.

"Oh, yes," Dorin confirmed. "When Vasile found out Lucius was still with us, and in Romania, he ordered him destroyed for disobedience. For abandoning the pact he was sent to fulfill. Well, Lucius marched right into the castle and said, 'Do it yourself, old man,' or something to that effect. And Vasile said, 'You impertinent chit,' and set upon Lucius like a wolf on a hind—that's a deer in your country."

Lucius fighting Vasile? It hardly seemed fair. Lucius was strong, but Vasile was beyond strong. He was like a force of nature. "What happened?"

"Lucius won. And in a fight to the finish . . . well, someone gets 'finished.'"

"Oh." Even though Vasile had been unspeakably cruel, it was hard to imagine Lucius plunging a stake into anyone's chest. . . .

Dorin correctly read my silence. "Lucius had no choice. But he was nearly shattered when it was all over. Wouldn't eat for days. Still, what could he have done? Stand there and let Vasile destroy
him?
If you ask me, the boy had endured far too much already. The world's a better place with Vasile out of the way."

"But Lucius can't accept that, can he?"

"No. Of course not. Lucius was raised—indoctrinated— to honor family above all else. He was taught since infancy to respect—and protect—Vasile as his mentor and superior. Of course Lucius sees disobeying and ultimately destroying Vasile as just more evidence that he is irredeemable. And so he
acts
irredeemably."

"What exactly is he doing?" I was truly scared to hear the answer.

"He is precipitating a war; that is what he is doing."

"How?"

"Our people, the Dragomirs, are furious about the pact. They think Lucius left you behind deliberately, for the express purpose of denying us our princess. Of denying us shared power. Lucius not only allows this misperception to fester, he fuels it. He taunts us toward war. Already, there are skirmishes between the Vladescus and the Dragomirs. Vampires have been destroyed in anger. Militias are being formed. Soon it will be all-out war."

"Vampires have been destroyed because
I
didn't come back with Lucius? While I was wasting time mucking stalls, my relatives have been getting
staked?
Why didn't you come get me?"

Dorin fidgeted. "I am not strong, Antanasia, like you ... I feared Lucius's wrath ... He told me that you were not to come to Romania, not to know that he lived. But the situation has gone too far. I cannot allow more Dragomirs to be lost, just because I am afraid to defy his decree. I had to come for you."

I squeezed my uncle's hand, almost as though I was the older, more experienced vampire. "Well, at least you did the right thing in the end. I promise I'll do my best to protect you from Lucius's 'wrath.'"

"Indeed, I trust that you are the one force capable of bringing back the benevolent side of Lucius. I stake my existence on it—and the fate of our people. For in a war with the Vlades-cus . . . well, in the time of peace, which began with your betrothal ceremony, we Dragomirs have allowed ourselves to soften. If this war cannot be averted, I fear that the Dragomirs, for all our current outrage, will be no match for the Vladescus."

"How bad might it be for our family?"

"Obliterated," Dorin said glumly.

"So if I can't convince Lucius, in a last ditch effort, to admit that he loves me and honor the pact. . . ?"

"The Dragomirs, I fear, will soon be no more. Lucius, as he is now, cannot be counted upon to show much mercy, I fear."

I leaned my head against the seat back, letting it all sink in. My new to-do list: Control angry Dragomir vampires. Win back no-longer-destroyed, reluctant, rampaging fiance. Stop imminent war.

I fingered the bloodstone at my throat. I was up for the challenge. I had no choice.

The plane hit some turbulence, and we jolted sharply, several times. So sharply that several passengers yelped.

Dorin grabbed my hand and smiled. "Welcome back to Romania, Princess Antanasia."

Chapter 60

GIVEN ALL THAT Lucius had told me about living in castles and eating the finest foods and having his clothes tailor-made, I was a bit surprised to find myself bumping along the rutted roads of rural Romania in a battered Fiat "Panda," which huffed and puffed along on only three of its four cylinders.

"Urn, Dorin," I said, clutching the dashboard as my uncle once again ground the gears into submission. "I thought we were vampire royalty."

Dorin nodded to me. "Indeed. Excellent bloodline."

"Then .. . what's with the car?"

"Oh. That. Do not think this vehicle representative of our heritage. It is just a temporary manifestation of our somewhat . . . er, reduced circumstances." He wrestled with the non-power steering, trying to avoid a rut as we climbed into the Carpathians.

The mountains stood in sharp contrast to the Appalachians that rolled gently across Pennsylvania. Indeed, the Carpathians, steep, rocky, and jagged, shamed the Appalachians' claim to mountain-hood. From time to time, the road would veer out over sheer, breath-snatching drops, then snake back into dense, shadowy forests, where Dorin assured me bears and wolves still prowled, only to emerge in brightness, cutting through small towns that seemed carved out of stone and fixed in the Middle Ages. Crooked cottages, snug little chapels, and busy taverns hugged narrow streets. I would glimpse these things, then, in the blink of an eye, we would plunge back into the wilderness.

I could see why Lucius had missed his homeland: the fairytale villages; the sense of time stopped; the pervasive impression that one was within a hidden mystery; a secret, wild enclave forgotten in a modern world.

"Hold on," Dorin advised, turning off the main road from Bucharest and bumping onto an even narrower lane.

We jerked along, and my head thumped the Pandas low ceiling. "Ouch." I rubbed my curls. "Is this really the best we can afford?"

"Well, I've told you. The clan has hit some hard times in recent years. We sold the Mercedes years ago. The Fiat's very reliable, though. I have no complaints. None at all."

I had a few complaints. How was I supposed to assume my proper place as a vampire princess when my mode of transportation was the size of a golf cart, with an engine that sounded like it belonged to a tabletop fan?

We rode in silence for quite some time, until we crested a rise that revealed, below us in the distance, a large cluster of terra-cotta-colored roofs glowing in the sunset. "Sighisoara," Dorin announced.

I leaned forward, staring out the windshield with eager eyes. So we had arrived, finally, in Lucius's home territory. This was where he had grown up, become the man I'd grown to love. "Will we drive through?"

"Yes," Dorin said. "Anything you wish."

I had noticed that my uncle's demeanor toward me had changed subtly since we'd landed in Bucharest. He had become more formal. More deferential. I considered telling him that he didn't have to treat me like a princess just because we weren't in the United States anymore. Then I realized, no, I would assume my rank. I would need deference; I would need to project authority if I was to achieve what I meant to achieve. I was in a Fiat Panda, but I was still a princess. "Please, show me," I urged.

"Of course." Dorin drove us into the heart of the city, and I gazed, enchanted, at arched stone passageways leading to twisting alleys, at cramped and crowded stores whose specialties—breads and cheeses and fruits and vegetables—spilled out onto the sidewalks, and at the seventeenth-century clock tower that served as the city's heartbeat, striking the hour as we passed. Six o'clock.

At each spot that captured my notice, I wondered. Had Lucius strode this street? Made a purchase at that store? Listened to the deep tolling of the clock, realizing that he needed to be somewhere, ducking his tall frame beneath one of those stone arches to keep an appointment in a hidden byway? This—this was a place where Lucius would not seem out of place, even in his velvet coat, his fitted trousers.

"Are you hungry?" Dorin asked. "We could stop for a moment, before all of the merchants close for the day."

"It's just six," I noted. "Is it, like, the local custom to shut down so early?"

Dorin pulled the car to the curb. "No. It is not always this way. But the people of this region have lived in the company of vampires for many generations. They keep the pulse of the clans. They have heard rumors of a coming war, and know that there will be thirsty, angry vampires about, seeking the fuel of blood—and recruits for our undead armies . . . They will not linger in the streets after dark without good reason."

A shiver shook through me, too. Although I was now a member of the vampire clans myself, I could definitely sympathize with the local people's fears. "So even the regular people are affected by the tension ..."

"Indeed," Dorin said. "They mourn the passing of nearly two decades of peace. For a time, we seemed to have reached a detente with the humans, too. That was largely the doing of Lucius. He was a good ambassador for us. So charming . . . Even those who would cross themselves at the name Vladescu could hardly dislike him. But now, of course, they know that he is changed ..."

Dorin led me toward a small restaurant, opening the door and ushering me into a cramped, narrow room. The decor was simple—a few scarred old tables scattered about a wooden floor—but the smell was amazing. "Here. We will buy
pa-panasi:
cheese dumplings rolled in sugar. A local delicacy."

"Sugared cheese?" I was skeptical.

"I ate the vegan birthday cake," Dorin noted. "Trust me, this will be a treat by any comparison."

I couldn't argue with that.

We stepped up to the counter, and the elderly proprietor rose from a stool with effort, greeting Dorin.
"Bună."