The Vengeance of the Vampire Bride (10 page)

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Authors: Rhiannon Frater

Tags: #vampires, #vampire, #horror, #gothic, #dracula, #gothic horror, #regency era

BOOK: The Vengeance of the Vampire Bride
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As we passed through a long room filled
with armor, I plucked a torch from the wall and lit it using
Magda’s candle. The light scattered the shadows and illuminated the
dusty floor. Though the darkness lingering in the stairwell was
daunting, I did not sense any lurking danger. I am old enough to
not let my nerves rule over my imagination and I gave Magda a
reassuring smile. The candlelight flickered in her dark eyes as she
returned a strained one.

“Stay behind me. Their resting place is
nearby, but is not accessible from the dungeons,” I
whispered.

She glanced over her shoulder into the
blackness behind her. “That is where they rest, isn’t
it?”

I nodded my head. “The other stairwell
at the opposite end of this hall leads to the chapel and their
resting place.”

Swallowing hard, she returned her gaze
to me.

“We shall hurry and be
gone.”

I do not have the preternatural
instincts of a supernatural creature, but even I could feel the
distinct lack of Vlad’s power in the castle. The man’s presence is
overwhelming even when he is sleeping. His power is as majestic as
it is evil. Yet, despite this castle being his haven, I could not
perceive it. In that moment, I believed that he was
dead.

I crept down the darkened stairwell, my
ears attuned to the slightest sound that was not our footfalls or
breath. The air was heavy and cold, reeking of mold and rot. The
stairs spiraled downward until I reached the torture room filled
with rusting devices of pain and death. Magda coughed on the dust
that rose as we tread over the ancient floor, approaching the door
that had once kept the countess' mother captive. Countess Dracula
had not recounted the tale of her mother’s death in any detail, but
sorrow had filled her eyes and spilled from her words as she had
instructed us where to search for her mother’s rosary.

The light from my torch revealed that
the door was ajar. Darkness loomed within. I saw Magda cross
herself as I reached out to the door.

It creaked open on ancient hinges and I
thought I heard the startled gasp of a woman. I raised my torch
swiftly, directing the light over the small room that reeked of
death. It was empty. Realizing it was most likely Magda who had let
out the soft cry, I stepped further into the cell.

Dirt and decomposing hay littered the
floor and a small pallet was shoved into one corner. I could not
imagine the woman who had given birth to the countess being in such
a place, yet I understood too well the cruelties of times past.
Vlad Dracula was a man born in a time of violence and war. This
would be the norm for a man such as he.

Following the countess' directive, I
began to search along the far wall, digging through the dirt for
the small rosary. According to the countess, her mother had hidden
it during her vampire daughter’s visit to her cell. Brushing aside
the dirt and rotting straw, I held the torch low over the ground,
hoping to find the relic of the late Lady Antoinetta.

“Is she safe?” a voice whispered near
me.

I looked up swiftly, but found I was
alone in the cell. Magda was not to be seen. Though the voice
startled me, I realized it had spoken in Italian. I may have lost
my faith long ago, but I understand the reality of
specters.

“Yes. She is safe. I watch over her,” I
responded in the native tongue of Countess Dracula’s
mother.

Sweeping the torch back and forth, the
light fell over nothing more than the cold stone walls and the dank
floor. The voice did not speak again, and I bowed my head with
respect.

“She sent me to recover your rosary so
she may lay you to rest properly, my lady.”

A feathery touch across my brow
startled me, but I felt no threat from what I perceived to be the
ghost of Lady Antoinetta. When she did not speak again, I returned
to my quest. Directing the light onto the floor once again, I was
surprised to see the rosary lying in plain sight near my hand.
Gently, I picked up the delicate beads, the gold crucifix glinting
in the torchlight.

“Thank you, my lady. This will bring
her great peace.” Standing, I called out. “Magda, I have found
it.”

There was no answer.

I called out again. “Magda, I found the
rosary. We can depart now.”

Silence was the only
response.

I strode swiftly from the cell to find
I was alone in the dungeon. There was no sight of Magda’s
flickering candle, nor the sound of her footfalls. Rushing up the
stairwell, I thrust the rosary into my trouser pocket as my heart
began to beat harshly within my chest. If Dracula or his fiendish
Brides had dragged off the maid, I would never forgive
myself.

I reached the long corridor lined with
armor and listened for any slight sound that could lead me to her.
The torch clasped in one hand, my sword in the other, I strained to
hear. I was rewarded by a startled scream then low, wicked
laughter. It came from the stairwell that led down into the
chapel.

Sprinting down the hallway, I resisted
the urge to call out her name. I hurried as quietly as I could down
the spiraling stairs into the depths of Dracula’s resting
place.

The low cackle of one of the vampire
Bride’s echoed from below.

“Get back!” Magda ordered.

I heard a gasp, then an angry
hiss.

Rushing into the ruined chapel, I found
Magda holding her hand aloft, fire burning in her palm. A blond
vampire, beautiful beyond compare, draped in a gauzy white dress
and adorned with jewels, crouched in the opening of a crypt. Above
her head was one word: DRACULA. She hissed, her long teeth
glimmering in the light from the flames.

Magda hurled the fire at the Bride. The
vampire darted back, the ball of fire smashing into the stone wall
and showering embers upon her. The blond Bride rushed forward,
seeing Magda disarmed. She cowered as Magda’s palm erupted in flame
again, and retreated.

“I have to kill him,” Magda said in a
determined voice.

I was not certain she was speaking to
me or the vampire she was confronting.

“I will tear out your throat and feast
on you,” the vampire threatened.

I sensed movement and
whirled about to see another Bride crawling on the wall. Her long
raven hair fell over her shoulder as she scuttled along like an
insect. I raised my torch, illuminating her face and she hissed at
me in fear and hunger.

“Magda,” I called out. “We
were not to disturb them!”

“He must die so she can be fully free!
She cannot do it, but I can!” Magda exclaimed defiantly.

The blond vampire laughed mockingly.
“You cannot kill him. He is too great for you.” Her tongue snaked
out to caress her long teeth and red lips. “I will enjoy drinking
your blood.”

Another vampire rushed toward Magda,
her tiny feet silent on the floor as she moved. I charged forward
and caught the creature about the waist. She was so astonished, she
only had a second to cry out before I tossed her across the chapel.
She skidded along the floor before she caught herself on her toes
and fingertips.

“He’s mine, Ariana!” the dark Bride
declared behind me.

As I turned to meet the vampire’s
assault, Magda threw her globe of fire at the attacking Bride. It
caught her dress afire and the creature screamed as she flailed
about.

“Elina!” The tiny, curly headed Bride
hurled herself over my head, ripped a tapestry from the wall, and
threw it over her sister to douse the flames.

The blond Bride rushed us as Magda
withdrew to my side. Sweat beaded her face and her straining
fingers curved as she attempted to summon more fire. I threw the
torch onto the remains of a broken coffin near my feet as I shoved
Magda aside. My sword swept toward the blond Bride and she arched
her back so the blade swept over her. Catching herself on her
hands, she raised her head and shrieked before attacking
again.

I lunged toward her, my sword flashing
in the light. I was startled by her swiftness as she dodged and
ducked past the sweep of my sword. Her clawed hands lashed out, but
I was quick on my feet and evaded her. I caught sight of Magda
finally drawing forth another orb of fire and throwing it at the
two dark Brides rushing her. They both screamed and retreated,
scurrying up the walls like insects.

“Where is Vlad?” I demanded as Magda
backed against me. Her hand was full of fire again.

“In his coffin. Where the countess left
him, drained and powerless. Let me kill him! Help me kill him!”
Magda fervently begged.

The blond vampire circled us slowly,
readying herself for another attack. The fire and my sword were
worrisome to her, but I could see that hunger and her devotion to
Vlad would provoke her to attack. Grabbing hold of Magda’s wrist, I
pulled her along as we rushed in the direction of the crypt. The
fire in Magda’s other hand was wavering and I feared she was
nearing the end of her ability. Her face was pale and covered in a
sheen of perspiration. She was trembling, not only from fear, but
exhaustion.

“Do not kill him!” the blond woman
shrieked. She darted forward to attack, but Magda hurled fire at
her. It burst over the vampire’s bosom. The Bride screamed and
flung herself up into the darkness above us, vanishing.

“I will not kill him!” I vowed as I
pushed Magda to Dracula’s crypt.

The coffin I had ignited was burning
brightly now. The light licked up the walls, but did not touch the
blackness enshrouding the roof of the desecrated chapel.

“We must!” Magda cried out.

“We cannot!” I told her.

Her palm caught afire again, but this
time the flame was low and weak. I gripped her wrist, holding it
firmly as I dragged her into the crypt with me. Her dark eyes were
fierce, but terrified. I could see her desire was strong, but her
fear was eating away at her resolve.

“There are greater powers than you and
I at work here and we dare not strike him down,” I growled at
her.

It was then we caught sight of him
resting in his coffin, a shriveled corpse clad in his royal robes.
Two candelabra adorned with red candles burned low in the darkness
of his crypt. The dragon of the House of Dracula adorned the family
crest that hung over his head. Drawing near Vlad Dracula, I could
now feel his familiar presence though it was greatly
weakened.

“Princess Cneajna of Hungary,” Magda
read aloud, looking at the coffin set beside Dracula’s and the
inscription on its side. “Beloved first Bride of Prince Vlad
Dracula.”

“She lays here to protect him,” I
noted.


She
did this to
him!” an anguished voice cried out behind us.

I looked toward the doorway
to see the three women gathered under the arch. They were clearly
fearful of our intentions and hungry with their blood lust. The
fire had burned away the dress of the dark haired Bride named Elina
and her nakedness enticed me. Princess Cneajna’s bodice was burned
away, her breasts bare under her long golden hair. The third bride,
Ariana, tiny and seductive, giggled as she clung to the waist of
the blond vampire.

“He is our husband,” Princess Cneajna
said in a husky voice. “I care for him. Do not touch him or I will
crush you.”

Magda raised her flaming hand higher
and the three women shrank back.

“We are not here to kill
him.”

“I am,” Magda declared.

“I will not allow her to do it,” I
vowed, my gaze steady upon the Princess. “It is not our
place.”

“If they let him rise, he will hurt the
Countess!”

“Glynis!” Elina hissed. “That foul
betrayer! She does not deserve the title Countess
Dracula!”

Ariana wailed in distress as Cneajna’s
eyes flamed red.

“Do not speak of her! That traitor
impaled our husband and took his power!” The princess’ words were
full of venom.

“Then why do you not let him rise
again?” I asked pointedly.

“She bound us to the castle and we
could not feed!” Cneajna seethed with anger. “How could we feed
him?”

Ariana cried out. “The gypsies wouldn’t
let us eat them! They were so cruel! And now they have
left!”

“Did she send you here to kill us all?”
Elina demanded.

“We are here to recover something that
is valuable to her.” The rosary in my pocket would be my final
weapon against them should they approach.

“We have to kill him! We cannot let him
rise!” Magda moved as if to cast her fire on him, but I spun her
about, forcing her to face the vampire women who were creeping
nearer.

“We cannot!”


If he rises he will go to
her!”

Cneajna hissed with anger at Magda’s
words. “I will not let him!”

“If he rises he will kill us,” Ariana
wailed. “He will slice off our heads!”

“We cannot let him enslave her once
again.” Magda’s voice was rough with her fear and grief. “He wants
her. He will do anything to possess her.”

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