I noted that Astir continued to draw despite the darkness. I pulled upon my power, letting it fill my senses and my eyesight grew keen. Leaning toward him, I saw my own face on his paper. Unlike the drawings of Katya and Magda, my sketch did not portray my present circumstances. I was depicted as slightly disheveled with my hair unfettered as I gripped a dagger and struck out at an unseen opponent.
I felt a cold chill wash over me and I shivered. “Is this one of your prophecies?”
Astir continued to draw with deft movements of his pencil. An expression of horror was being etched onto the charcoal rendering of my face. “Perhaps.”
“Is it or is it not?” I demanded.
“I am inclined to believe it is,” he replied.
“So who am I fighting? Who is here?” I pointed at the empty space that would hold the image of my opponent.
Astir set down the pencil and tilted his head to regard me. “That is the mystery of it. I don’t know. In my vision I see you like this...”
“You’re attempting to frighten me,” I accused him.
“Not at all,” he said in a strangely distracted tone. “I find it quite disconcerting that I cannot see any further than your terrified face.”
“You’re teasing me. This is nothing,” I decided.
His eyes sparked with flames for a mere second, and then he shrugged. “Perhaps it is symbolic of your temperamental spirit always chaffing against convention.”
I wanted to believe that was true. I also wanted to believe that the sketch was nothing more than Astir teasing me, but I felt disquieted whenever I looked upon the illustration.
“I do not like it. Destroy it,” I ordered.
“I think not. Maybe one day I shall finish it and discover who your opponent is,” Astir answered in a firm tone, closing the sketchbook to stow it away. “Sleep now, Countess. The sun climbs ever higher and it is time for you to sleep.”
“I’d rather not,” I retorted, cranky with exhaustion and disturbed by his sketch.
But before I could say another word or think another thought, I was asleep.
Later-
I was roused briefly from sleep while the horses rested and my companions disembarked for a meal. I was aware of Magda covering me with something made of cloth that smelled of Astir and his haven. She whispered that I was safe and to not be afraid. I could not fully awaken, but I could hear the door open and feel the carriage wobble as my companions disembarked.
Struggling to bring my mind fully out of its slumber, I found myself caught between the world of dreams and reality.
“All is as it should be,” Vlad said.
“You’re not here,” I whispered, not sure if I spoke aloud or only in my dreams. I attempted to open my eyes, the rich fragrance of jasmine filling my nostrils. In the dreaming world, my eyes opened to see Vlad’s shadow at my side. “I vanquished you.”
“For now,” he agreed. “How like me you are...your enemy vanquished, your rivals trapped and starving, and you safely on your way to Buda. Impressive for such a young, naive English lady. Ah, yes, but you are no longer Lady Glynis Wright, are you?”
“Leave me,” I answered wishing I could awaken.
“You are now Countess Dracula of Wallachia. Your exploits should not be so shocking considering your station, your family name and who your husband is.”
“I keep your name only to advance myself,” I snapped. I attempted to escape the dream carriage, but found that I was paralyzed in this world as well.
Vlad Dracula chuckled with amusement. “I shall reclaim you.”
“Never!”
“I shall. I swear it.”
In my dream, his form was dark and his features hidden. But I saw when he gazed at me for his eyes were coals of fire in the darkness.
“I shall never relent!”
I gasped as I woke fully. I threw off the coat and Adem lunged forward to cover me as another guard closed the door on the bright sunlight outside.
“Countess!” he gripped me tightly with his hands, breathing hard with fright.
“He was here!” I gasped.
“No one was here. We just stopped a few minutes ago. The others just now departed.”
“Vlad was here,” I insisted, my mind unreasonable. I could feel his gaze upon me still.
Adem’s rough hand pressed against my cheek as he gazed into my eyes. “Countess, look upon me. If he was here, he would be burning in the sun. I would not let him hurt you.”
Tears in my eyes, I nodded briefly, then clutched his hand. “Thank you, Adem.”
“We are only stopped for a short while, then we will continue. Lord Astir has arranged lodging for tonight so you may freshen up, feed, and relax.” Adem withdrew his hands and sat across from me.
Within, I felt ravaged by Vlad’s words. Perhaps it had merely been a dream, but I knew if he were in any way able to form thoughts, he would be planning his recapture of me.
“When you saw him,” I said in a tremulous voice, “in the castle, how did he appear?”
What if the Brides had fed him? What if they were restoring him?
“A shriveled husk. I would not have known it was him save for the crest above his head and where he was laid to rest. I could faintly feel his presence, but it was like that of a wraith.” Adem hesitated, then continued. “If you are asking me if he could reach out and attack you from afar even in that condition, I do not know. But his power was barely discernible.”
I swallowed words of fear that were filling my mouth and forced myself to be silent.
“May I ask you a question, Countess?”
“Why did I do it?”
“Lord Astir told me why you did it. Vlad was attempting to kill the other Brides. I suppose my question is how could you? Do you not love him?” Adem spoke gently, but his words wounded me.
“Yes, but, I hate him as well,” I confessed. My words were harsh with emotion. The nightmare was still fresh in my mind. “I hate him, and I love him.” I shook my head. “I hate him more than I can bear. It burns like a fire inside of me. At times, I dream of slashing his head from his shoulders. And yet...” I shrugged. “I love him. But I do not think it is a pure love. It’s twisted, painful, and cruel. It hurts me to not be near him, yet...” I was rambling on, spilling out my heart to a stranger, yet I could not stop. I felt tears spring into my eyes and my rage returned. “I do not want him in my life though it is like a dagger inside of me twisting away to not be with him.”
“It is his blood in you. A bond between the Master and the fledgling.” Adem nodded his head, not surprised at my outburst. Perhaps Astir had told him more than I suspected.
“Do you know much about vampires?”
“As much as can be learned in the time I have spent around them. And I have known Vlad for a very, very long time.”
This surprised me, yet I quickly realized that any knowledge Adem might possess about Vlad could indeed be valuable in my quest to be completely free of him, both body and soul. “Did you know him well?”
“Yes. I perhaps know him better than any other vampire that Astir entertains.” Adem smirked. “And there is no love lost between us. I am a Turk and was once a devout follower of Islam. I am everything that your husband and Master hated when he was a mortal prince fighting the Ottoman invasion of his lands.”
“He impaled the Turks. On stakes. Thousands,” I whispered. The horrible opera created in Vlad’s honor had depicted such a scene, but I had also witnessed the atrocities in Vlad’s memories. I had seen the dead and dying impaled on stakes in a terrible forest of blood while Vlad drank and ate at a grand table laid out beneath them.
“And his own people as well,” Adem remarked, shaking his head. “It was a brutal time. All men of power were such as him. Cruel beyond what modern man could conceive. Death was ever tangible in their world and just a blade away. They were adept at plots and maneuvering through ever shifting loyalties. I knew Vlad then as I know him now. If he could kill me, he would.”
“But he can’t?”
Adem grinned in such a way that it seemed all his teeth gleamed in the light. “No, he cannot. So I have no love for your dear husband, as you apparently do not.”
“Tell me more. I must know more.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“What did he do to me? Why do I feel bound to him though I hate him?”
“I have seen this bond that you speak of. The great love born of the blood that binds you. When corrupted, it twists into something...hateful. It is cruel for though you hate your Master with all your soul, that very soul cries out for the one who created you.”
“Yes! That is it! But it was not always this way! It has grown...stronger. I felt nothing for him when first created. All I felt was rage, but in Buda it began to change. Strengthen!”
Thoughtfully, Adem leaned forward. “Did he feed you often from his veins? Did you feel his power filling you? Did he...join with you?”
“Yes! All those things!” I remembered all too well the night Vlad had forced me to drink from him, then ravished me as the memories of his life filled my mind. Ignatius had told me that Vlad had bound me.
