The Vengeance of the Vampire Bride (22 page)

I was riled at her words, infuriated
that she dare tell me how to behave, yet I was surprised to see
concern in her eyes. “I came here to find Ignatius and have my
revenge.”

Astir finished her champagne and
gestured for the waiter. “Yes, I know. But you are not a goddess,
my little one. You are a vampire with a title and the illusion of a
mortal life. You must use these assets to your advantage and keep
yourself from harm. You cannot hurtle through this new life of
yours doing as you will.”

I chafed under her words. “What use is
this new life if I cannot do as I will? I refused to live a
conventional life as a mortal and I certainly do not intend to do
so as a vampire.”

“Is that why you have ensconced
yourself in Hungarian society as Countess Dracula? Please, my dear
one. You have returned to the familiar trappings of your mortal
life.”

My laughter was mocking. “If you bore
witness to the Baroness Dosza’s little nightly parties, you would
have to admit that the life I live now is far removed from the
genteel country life my parents desired for me. I am a vampire. I
am Countess Dracula, and I will do as I desire.”

Astir fastened her keen eyes upon me.
“Even if that should mean that you would not see your beloved
Father Ignatius because you would be dead?”

I sat back in my chair, stunned. “You
dare threaten my life?”

“No, I am giving you a warning that
should you not tread carefully, my dear sweet little countess, you
will meet your end at the hands of those whose name I dare not
speak aloud.” Astir sat forward on her chair, moving closer to
whisper across the table. “There are powers at work in this city
that will destroy you should they realize certain
veracities.”

I was vexed to see the truth in her
eyes. It was plain that she was speaking of my crime against Vlad
Dracula and the ramifications. I was chilled to my core as once
again I was reminded that though he was vanquished I was not yet
free of his power and influence. I could feel my rage rising,
choking me, and tears springing to my eyes as I faced the reality
that to some extent I was still trapped by the dealings of the
vampire who had killed me and made me his Bride.

“Damn,” I hissed, sulking.

“Good, you understand at
last.”

“I will have my revenge,” I said
sullenly.

Astir glanced over her shoulder.
“Discretion is always the best route in these things. Any grand
gestures could be misread by those whose attention you do not want
drawn in your direction.”

“Who are these powers?” I felt drained
of all emotion all at once.

“As I said, I dare not speak the
names.” Astir fanned herself, her eyes sweeping over the cafe,
briefly stopping on each face.

“You are so powerful. Do you actually
fear others?” I scoffed at her sudden demure demeanor.

Returning her gaze to my face, she
said, “I have learned to play the games of this world because I am
not all powerful, my dear little countess. I have my limits as do
you. Since the vampire hunters invaded Buda and robbed me of some
of my best clientele I have had to be a little more...” Her words
faded away and she fussed with her glass. “Where is that
waiter?”

“Your haven was compromised by Gregor,
the dhamphir. Did that affect your power?”

Astir laughed lightly, her fingers
fluttering over her lips. “Oh, please!”

I am not always the cleverest of
creatures, but I recognized the flash of fear I saw in her eyes.
Her haven had been compromised and she had banished the vampires
from it during the vampire hunter rampage through the city. Perhaps
she was in the same difficult position as I. Perhaps she was caught
in a web, too.

Our waiter returned and our orders were
taken. When our food arrived, I pretended to eat as Astir ate
ravenously, laughing and talking about nothing more important than
fashion and the weather. I could not wrestle another bit of
information from her. It was if she were suddenly my dearest friend
and our meal was nothing more than two friends having a lovely
dinner together. I finally gave in to her desire to not speak of
the mysteries of Buda, the vampires, Dracula, and the web I was
apparently caught upon.

When we parted ways, Adem climbed into
the carriage with me. He had sat in silence, like a shadow,
throughout my time in the cafe. As the horses drew us away into the
majestic hills toward the palace, he reached out and took my hand
gently. I found it to be a forward action and almost pulled way,
but his fingers tightened slightly.

“I know you wish not to heed Astir’s
words, but I have not heard the truth so plainly spoken from her
lips in many years. Strangely, I do believe she cares for you and
wishes for you to be safe. Listen to her. Obey her.”

My lips trembled as I nodded. He
released my hand and settled into the darkness of the carriage. I
cast my gaze upon the Danube beyond the carriage window and
struggled to hold back my tears.

I have always hated Vlad Dracula, but
in that moment I would have killed him a thousand times over to be
free of him, his power, and the secret dealings that so greatly
impacted my existence despite his banishment.

Chapter 15

The Journal of Countess
Dracula

July 12, 1820

The Dosza Palace,
Buda

Baroness Dosza and I
attended a party on Margret Island located on the Danube River. The
Baroness was elated to be invited. I discerned from our
conversation en route on her private boat that she had been
concerned about her social status after a short altercation with
another aristocrat.

“I must say I am relieved
it is not an issue. She was determined to have me shunned. I told
her quite plainly I would never lie with her disgusting pig of a
husband.” The baroness sniffed before flashing a wicked smile.
“Instead I was bedding her son.”

I must admit that the baroness is
intriguing in her own way. She lets no one dictate her actions, but
acts upon her own whims. Her passions rule her and they may change
from day to day. Though she may be fickle, I have witnessed her one
constant obsession: her desire to never grow old and to be
immortal. She is consumed with the notion of being Vlad Dracula’s
Bride. I listen to her prattle on about him, our future, and her
desire to be my dearest friend with some amusement. I’m not a fool.
I know that she believes if she becomes my confidant, her status in
Dracula’s household shall be elevated. Little does she know that I
have no intention of allowing her to be a vampire, let alone
survive another year of her mortal life.

We were welcomed with great fervor when
we joined the festivities held near the medieval ruins of a
monastery. The trees were decorated with long swaths of white
ribbon and candles burned in ivory candelabra. An orchestra played
upon a vast green lawn as the attendees danced, conversed, laughed,
and flirted beneath the black canvas of the night. All the ladies
shimmered in their pale gowns, resembling lost spirits as they
walked through the lush garden and lingered under the canopies of
the white cypress trees.

As we walked together among the party
goers, greeting the wealthy and titled of Buda, Csilla snaked her
arm about mine, pressing close to me. I admit we both enjoyed the
openly shocked expressions and fervently whispered gossip. I knew
it was quite the scandal to see Count Dracula’s wife and mistress
arm in arm, enjoying the party together.

“Baroness Csilla! What a joy to see
you!” a matronly lady called out in greeting. She excitedly waved
us over.

As we joined her, Csilla greeted her
with a cool little smile. “Borbála, how lovely to see
you.”

Borbála returned a cold smile of her
own. I wondered if it was this same woman with whom the baroness
had quarreled. “Pardon me, but have we met?”

“I am Countess Dracula.”

“Oh, my! Of course! It has been so long
since I saw you when you were visiting with your parents. I believe
I last saw you and your family at a picnic.” There was a slightly
predatory gleam in her eye as she swept her eyes over my face. “Oh,
wait. No. It was the lovely opera at the Dosza Palace where I last
saw you with your husband and your charming brother.”

It was difficult, but I did not allow
myself to be disquieted by her words.

“But you were in mourning then. You
wore such a heavy veil, I could not even see your face.”

“Isn’t she lovely?” Csilla gushed. “Now
that her mourning is over, it is so grand to see her pretty face
once more.”

“I always thought you were a lovely
little thing despite your red hair,” the older woman said, her
ruddy complexion a clear indication of her drunken state. I could
almost forgive her comment if not for her cruel eyes.

This final remark wore away at my
resolve and having been teased my entire life because of my red
locks, I bristled under her words. I was about to retort when a
voice with a thick English accent responded instead.

“I think red hair is the mark of a
beautiful woman.”

Turning, I saw a tall man with blond
hair and brilliant pale blue eyes approaching. Sporting the latest
fashion of a long coat, he was a striking figure. Something about
his broad shoulders and the set of his chin reminded me of my
father and I felt a lump in my throat.

Csilla rewarded him with a sweet smile
and squeezed my hand lightly. “Of course it is! It is such a rare
color and with her pale skin, it’s so striking.”

Without another word, Borbála stomped
off to join the other gossiping biddies leaving us alone with the
Englishman.

“Pardon my interruption,” he said,
bowing. “My name is Percy Clarke and I had to come to defense of
such a lovely young woman.”

“I am Baroness Dosza, but you may call
me Csilla,” the baroness said, already turning her charms to the
handsome man before us.

“I’m delighted,” Percy said, kissing
both our hands. His Magyar was good, though thickly
accented.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I said
to him in English. “I am Countess Dracula.”

His eyes widened with surprise. Quickly
recovering, he said, “Countess Dracula, I take it you are English
born?”

“I am. I was born Lady Glynis Wright. I
married Count Dracula last year,” I said.

“It is definitely a pleasure to meet
you! It has been quite some time since I was last in England. To
hear another English voice is refreshing,” Percy
answered.

“What is he saying?” Csilla asked me,
slightly disconcerted to be excluded from the
conversation.

In Magyar, I said, “Percy was just
saying it has been some time since he was last on English
soil.”

“I miss England,” Percy admitted, also
in Magyar, “but I have a lot of business to attend to here in Buda.
I probably will not be traveling back to England for some
time.”

“It has been over two years since we
departed England.” Even I could hear the sadness in my voice as the
yearning to see the old manor grew almost unbearable in that moment
of confession. I could so clearly remember the dark gray facade of
my ancestral home against the backdrop of the lush green of the
countryside. The voices of my family flitted through my mind,
snippets of conversations floating like wraiths through my
memory.

Percy’s pale blue eyes regarded me with
curiosity as he shifted on his feet. Nearby, the birds rustled in
the trees as the noise from the party stirred them from their
slumber.

“I suppose it was your marriage that
relocated you to the city of Buda,” Percy ventured.

“My family was traveling across the
Continent when the Baroness introduced me to my future husband.
After my family was tragically killed, I became Countess Dracula.”
It was the truth, yet it excised so much of the pain and terror my
family and I had endured. I immediately felt guilty, as though I
had betrayed my family by so easily glossing over their brutal
murders. I cast down my gaze, afraid that I may weep if I saw
sympathy in his eyes. He reminded me so much of a younger version
of my dear departed father.

“I do apologize for bringing up a
sensitive subject,” he said swiftly.

“The Countess is a strong, and yet
tragic figure.” Csilla’s smile cast in my direction could be
perceived as affectionate, but I translated it as possessive. “She
has risen above the tragedy that befell her family to woo not only
her husband, but all of us who consider her our friend.”

“I am merely doing my very best in
difficult circumstances,” I said swiftly, a touch embarrassed by
her gushing words, but also antagonized by her portrayal of herself
as an adoring friend.

“Never underestimate the English,”
Percy said with a somewhat roguish smile. “That includes the
ladies.”

I fluttered my fan at him playfully.
“Well said and so true. Enough of my dark past, what brings you to
Buda?”

“I am a merchant by trade. My company
deals in textiles. Such as the lovely silk your gowns are made of.”
His fingers lightly touched the puffed sleeve of my ice blue
gown.