The wine mingled with blood was exquisite to my pallet and I drank it down a bit too quickly. I instantly felt giddy and giggled.
“Only the finest is served here,” Ignatius said. He was sipping his wine, watching me, drinking in my appearance in a way that made me all the more girlish.
“Astir is not one of us, is…uh…he…she?”
Ignatius nodded. “No. Not at all. Astir is one of the Fallen.”
I gasped and raised my hand to my throat. “No! Truly?”
“That is why Astir calls this Purgatory. Neither heaven nor hell.”
“Then Astir is a demon?”
“No, darling. One of the Fallen. Demons are quite a different sort.”
I gaped at Ignatius, then narrowed my eyes. “Is he...she...in league with Satan?”
Ignatius looked quite solemn at my query, but smiled a little ironic smile. “No, darling. Astir fell to earth and sides with no one. But Astir’s story is not mine to tell.”
I pouted at this, tapping my foot irritably. I was terribly intrigued by our host and all that surrounded me. Violins were playing somewhere nearby, and I could hear laughter.
“There are many rooms with many delights, but I felt you should be introduced slowly,” Ignatius said as he noticed my curiosity.
The curtains to our private little area were thrown back. A woman stood in the doorway, arms flung out, grinning almost madly. She was quite striking with a very handsome face and fine gold blond hair drawn up into an ornate style on her head. Her eyes though, were as dark as the deepest waters of the ocean and appeared almost black. With a wild laugh, she descended on us, her silver dress, with its fine beading and lace, rustling as she moved.
“Father Ignatius, it is true! You do have a woman with you! What scandal is this?”
Ignatius sighed, slowly turning his gaze to her. “Dominique, how lovely to see you here.”
“You are such a liar,” she responded, smacking him with her ostrich fan.
Ignatius looked at me with a rather pained expression.
I stood up, extended my hand, and said, “I am Lady Glynis Wright.”
With a grin, she took my hand, and, to my surprise, kissed it. “I am Dominique. A dear, dear friend of Father Ignatius.”
I saw him cover his face out of the corner of my eye as he sighed.
“It is a pleasure,” I said, trying to seem not one bit unnerved by her, even though I was.
“Oscar!” she shouted into the hallway.
A young man, quite mortal and very drunk, appeared.
“Really, Oscar! What are you doing?”
“Attempting to walk,” he answered, and promptly fell to the ground.
“He cannot hold his liquor at all,” she sighed, fanning herself. “I really do not know why I keep him around.”
“I satisfy your every need,” he answered from the floor.
“For now,” she sniffed, then smiled at me rakishly. Her teeth were very sharp, and I realized she was a vampire.
“How are you tonight, Dominique?” Ignatius asked, still not moving from his chair.
“Completely devastated by you not introducing me to your dear companion,” she said as she flung herself to her knees and clung to him.
“Perhaps because I feared this sort of scene,” he said to her.
“I am a bit drunk,” she admitted with a smile.
“Very much drunk,” he corrected her.
“And quite hurt that you did not tell me you had taken on a lover,” she said with a pout.
I felt awkward standing, so I sat down in my chair and played with the stem of my goblet.
“It was not my understanding that I had to report to you,” Ignatius answered.
“But I am your dearest friend!”
This made him laugh and he shook his head with amusement.
Rising to her feet, she swung about his chair, her hands resting on the back of it as leaned over to gaze at me. “It is good to see that he finally allowed himself to love someone other than God.”
Quite suddenly the frivolity was gone from the mood in the room. Ignatius abruptly and terrifyingly looked quite sullen. Dominique seemed to realize she had gone too far and quickly spun away on her heel, fanning herself.
“Sometimes your tongue runs before your sense,” Ignatius said sharply.
“Yes, it does,” she conceded, but then turned to smile at me. “You must come and see me in Venice. We shall be grand friends one day. You shall see.”
“I should like that,” I answered politely, not quite certain what else to say.
With the flash of her sharp fangs, she was gone, dragging her mortal lover behind her by his collar.
As the curtain fell back over the doorway, we sat in the silence filling the small room with its ornate furnishings and flickering candlelight. Ignatius was still and shrouded in shadows, his long hair falling over his shoulders.
“You are a priest,” I said slowly.
“Was,” he answered.
I lowered my eyes, not quite sure what to say or think. I had thought the priest garb a disguise. Now I realized my beloved Ignatius was a man I hardly knew despite my love for him.
“I was a priest,” he said admitted.
“Then all this,” I said to him, motioning with my hand. “All this is truly your purgatory?”
He raised his eyes, and I saw the great sadness there. “I am in hell and I swore I would never be happy in it. Never. And then, I found you.”
I smiled slightly, nervously.
“And I love you,” he said softly. “I love you as I never dared believe I would love any woman. You have made this hell bearable.”
“But it is not as easy as that, is it?”
“No,” he answered with a sigh. “You are my great sin. I swore to love none but God. But I have broken that vow.”
I felt tears on my face. When he saw them, he was instantly at my side, drawing me up into his arms.
“Let us not speak of the past,” he said swiftly. “Let us not speak of what was, but relish what is.”
I stroked his face with my fingers as I kissed his lips tenderly. “I love you, but I do not want to hurt you.”
“And that, my darling, is the crux of it. You do not hurt me. You heal me,” he said, and kissed my face all over.
We clung together until my tears faded and our kisses grew passionate. I could feel his pain, but I could also feel his love for me. Soon all that was left was his love, pulsating in his kisses and in his touch.
“Come,” he said at last. “Come see what there is to see.”
He drew me from our small haven and out into the hall. Immediately, a footman appeared to walk before us. Upon silent orders, he flung open two large doors I had not seen before.
We entered a grand salon filled with people, music and dance. Some were mortal, others vampires, and others appeared mortal, but I felt they were not. I watched as humans gave themselves up willingly to little groups of vampires, receiving bites and kisses, their expressions languid and pleasured. I marveled at this sight, pondering my many hunting expeditions. How easily these humans gave themselves up here!
Men were gathered together talking and laughing. Some of the women were in tight little cliques gossiping animatedly. Violinists were playing wild, crazed Hungarian music and a few people were dancing. Tucked into tiny alcoves, a few people indulged in more scandalous pursuits.
Dominique was sitting at a table, smoking a pipe, and talking loudly with a man I knew instantly was a vampire. He was beautiful and radiant with long red hair. Beside her, Oscar was slumped against her chair, snoring loudly.
“Vlad comes here?” I asked softly of Ignatius.
“Yes, at times,” Ignatius answered.
“So you do know him and he knows you?” I said.
“Yes,” he said in a tone that was truthful, but also demanded no more questions.
Unexpectedly, he turned, gripped me tightly about the waist, and swung me around into a wild dance. I clung to him as we joined the other dancers' gay movements.
We danced and laughed for quite some time. I loved seeing him smile and his gaiety seemed to surprise more than a few onlookers. At one point, I saw Astir and Dominique in deep conversation and knew they were speaking of Ignatius.
We drank more wine mingled with blood, and I even took a sip from a young man who offered me his wrist. I boldly sat on Ignatius’ lap and he happily wrapped his arms about my waist.
“Countess Dracula,” Astir said as the Fallen was suddenly beside us.
I gave him (for I shall now call Astir male for lack of a better address) a very dark look and he laughed.
“Oh, come now, I know who you are. Your husband speaks highly of you.”
I stood up sharply, blushing. Panic gripped me as I realized I could be exposed and Vlad’s wrath would descend on me.
Astir took hold of my arm. “This is a place of discretion. None will speak of your appearance here with our dear Father Ignatius.”
Ignatius slowly rose to his feet and slid his hand around my waist. “Astir speaks the truth.”
“If you tell Vlad…”
“I will not, I can assure you. Neither will anyone else who knows who you truly are. But Countess, what I wished to tell you is that you are always most welcome here and should you need me I am at your disposal.”
“Why?” My tone was clipped and fierce.
He laughed at my boldness, but his gaze strayed to Ignatius. “Because, darling, I am intrigued by any woman who could snare the heart of one who swore it to God.”
“You taunt me,” Ignatius snapped.
“Yes,” Astir answered, gliding away.
I stomped my foot, frowning, but Ignatius drew me close.
“Astir likes to provoke. Do not give into the Fallen’s games.”
I looked up into the face of my beloved. “I feel like a child here. Confused and uncertain, yet, giddy at the prospect of being included.”
Ignatius kissed my lips. “I know, my love. But I am here to guide you.”
What followed was a blur. I am not trying to hide anything, for God knows I have written of things in this journal I never thought I would divulge. I remember dancing, drinking more wine, and ,at one point, exchanging long glances with Dominique.
“Come see me in Venice,” she said one last time as I passed her table, and then I never saw her again.
Everything became wild and chaotic as I drank more wine and began to speak with others in the room. I do not truly remember what was said or who they were, but they were all quite intrigued by Ignatius and I. None seem to recognize me as the bride of Vlad Dracula, much to my relief. Ignatius merely shook his head if the inquiries were too personal.
Finally, we ended up alone, kissing madly in a hallway. I felt Ignatius' hands in my hair, tugging free the combs that Magda had so carefully tucked into my coif. As our kisses became more savage, I realized we were no longer in a hallway, but a beautiful, exotic bedroom. I recognized it as Turkish in design from Vlad’s memories. It felt quite decadent.
Ignatius drew me down with him onto the enormous bed laden with silks and velvets, kissing me ardently. The sweet smell of incense filled the room, and I felt intoxicated by the magic of this place. I drew back from him, my hand sliding over his chest as I sat up.
“What is this place?”
Ignatius rose up beside me, kissing my throat as his hands freed me of my dress. “A place to be safe.”
My hands nestled in his hair as he kissed my mouth. I smiled against the softness of his beard, kissing his cheek. “Are you certain?”
“Astir chooses what we do or do not remember of this place. If he tells you Vlad will not know you were here with me, then you will not be remembered except by those he trusts.”
“You and Dominique.” I traced my fingers along the length of his nose, and he kissed my fingers when they reached his lips.
“Yes. Me and Dominique.” His long raven black hair was silky soft against my breasts as I held him while his long fingers slid down my bare back. “Stay with me here tonight.”
