Diaries of the Family Dracul - The Covenant with the Vampire Part 18

My back struck the cold stone floor, forcing air from my lungs. I struggled to rise at once, seeking my attacker's throat and trying in vain to clutch it, but my left shoulder was pinned fast, evoking the image of the wolf in the forest, paws upon my shoulders, holding me down but resisting the temptation to kill.

But this human wolf had no such compunctions. My attempt to rise distracted my strength less than a second -but it was enough. Face contorted in an agony of effort, teeth bared, he broke my grip and seized my throat.

I cried out-a short, indignant yelp-and grabbed his wrists, fighting for air that would not come. I feared my battle was lost, that I, too, would suffer Jeffries' and Herr Mueller's post- mortem indignity upon that table.

Yet my cry was followed within two seconds-no more-by an abrupt, ringing explosion to my right. In my confusion, I thought the revolver had spontaneously discharged, but when my gaze darted in the direction of the noise, I saw that the inner chamber door, which now we lay several feet from, had been flung open with force.

V. stood in the doorway, blazing-not with glory but wrath. His dark brows were knitted together, and his features twisted by a rage terrible to behold. At the same time he was beautiful, too, in the pitiless, blinding manner of the sun, of an avenging angel. His hair was entirely jet, save for a few strands gilt with vermeil, and his skin radiated the blush of eternal, virile youth. I thought I looked upon myself perfected, redeemed. Our gazes locked, and the fury in his eyes merged with unspeakable astonishment.

"What impudent magic is this?" he whispered pa.s.sionately. "Too soon-you are freed too soon! Do you think to ruin my plans?"

I stared at him with blank incomprehension. He narrowed his eyes, seemed to judge my reaction sincere. As I watched, he came towards us with impossible swiftness; or rather, he simply loomed large within my field of vision, and without seeming to have moved at all, was suddenly standing beside us.

At the sight of him, my attacker recoiled and knelt like a penitent as I fell back, gasping, against the floor. I fingered my throbbing neck and finally managed to sit while Laszlo wept: "Do not be angry, Domnia fez! He tried to kill me-"

V. spoke again, and his voice, though soft, sounded in the silent chamber like thunder, like the wind and cras.h.i.+ng cymbals, like the voice of G.o.d.

"Then you should have let him."

The prince parted thumb and forefinger of one hand to form a vee and swooped down to catch the soft part of Laszlo's neck therewith. With a muscular arm, he lifted the quivering coachman-high, higher, until Laszlo's feet dangled inches above the floor and his purple, gasping face hovered a foot above Vlad's own.

"Death is all you deserve!" V. hissed, with eyes that shone like dazzling green stars. "When you first came to me, did I not make you swear above all else that you were never to harm him? Never to cast so much as an untoward glance at my family, and least of all, him? Did I not? Did I not?."

"I have allowed you everything you desire, and still you disobey! This I will never forgive!"

He shook the gagging man like a puppet; Laszlo kicked the air, struggling vainly to breathe, to protest as V. closed his hand around his throat.

In the echoing stillness of the great chamber, I heard the wheezing sound of air being forced from a windpipe, of bone and cartilage grinding together.

"No!" I shouted hoa.r.s.ely. "Stop!"

I lunged. He glanced at me and raised his free hand -merely raised it, and flicked it as though he were dismissing a housefly-to send me hurtling backwards across the room.

My shoulders and back struck the table where Herr Mueller's corpse lay, knocking the wind from my lungs. For seconds I lay stunned, unable to draw a breath; in the silence, I heard the dying man gag, then begin to gurgle, drowning as the pressure broke blood vessels in his throat.

I came to myself and scrabbled across the floor, searching vainly in the darkness for the lost gun, knowing the weapon would be useless against V.; yet I could not sit idly by and watch a man, however twisted and evil, be murdered.

At last came a sound of abrupt, strangled finality which sounded more catlike than human. I glanced up to see Laszlo swaying as he dangled from V."s hand with the same eerily lifeless movement I had witnessed in Herr Mueller; his pale eyes bulged from an apoplectically red face, and his tongue thrust forth from an opened mouth. At his neck, V."s fingers dug so deeply into the flesh I was surprised it had not torn.

I crawled away from this vision on my hands and knees, and did not turn to look behind me at the sound of the body being dropped against the stone. I wanted only to flee myself, to find shelter from awareness; to join Laszlo in the mindless dark. I continued until I collapsed in the open doorway to the inner chamber and lay my cheek against the cold stone, exhausted by the struggle, drawn to the dark. Yet as I turned my head to lay it down, I glimpsed more radiant white within, partially eclipsed by a foyer. Curiosity made me straighten, and crane forward, struggling to see beyond the corner of the entryway.

Another flash of white, accompanied by a woman's soft moans. I thought at once of my poor Mary, and my heart began beating rapidly. I grasped the lintel, pulled myself onto unsteady legs, and entered, my heart full of dread. The room opened to my left, on which side the wall jutted out a few feet, to prevent those outside the door from seeing in when it was opened. I moved forward only far enough to take in the entire room, and there I remained.

It was perhaps a third as large as the outer chamber, windowless and airless, with the same faint smell of stone, earth, and decay as the family tomb. It was darker than the outer room, so I could just distinguish the shapes of two coffins, side by side, in front of me. Both were black, and the larger one was draped with a banner bearing the same dragon emblem as the Impaler's s.h.i.+eld. Nearby, at the smaller coffin's head, awaited yet another startling combination of flesh for my eyes to decipher.

In the foreground stood a creature with a schoolgirl's face and a woman's blooming body whom I knew was Herr Mueller's child-bride. She was half-naked, her dress unb.u.t.toned and rolled down to her waist, her head tilted to one side so that long, brunette curls-much like the curls of the china doll-cascaded down over one seash.e.l.l-pink shoulder and breast.

But even her perfect porcelain skin seemed dull in comparison to the radiant white flesh of the woman who stood behind her.

My sister, brilliantly lovely in her grave cerements, just as she had appeared to me earlier in the family tomb. Zsuzsanna had fastened her lips upon that incarnadine neck to suck gently there, steadying herself by one hand clasped about the bride's waist, the other cupped beneath her full breast. A strand of Zsuzsa's hair, black with a dull blue sheen, had slipped forward and fallen from the place she drank down the woman's torso to her waist, like a trail of darkened blood.

And behind my sister, against the wall, stood a waist-high altar, draped in black, upon which burned a single black candle which illumined the items thereon: the golden chalice, the silver dagger with the inscribed black hilt, and a stone pentacle, ill-dignified.

Frau Mueller's expression was slack, and her primrose lips parted with a dreamer's sensuality; she arched her back against Zsuzsa and released small sighs that seemed inspired as much by ecstasy as pain.

I released a sound, too; a loud gasp, at which my sister's eyes flew open at once. The girl cried out and struggled, this time in unmistakable fear and pain-but feebly, still entranced, eyes still closed. Zsuzsanna fanned her hand over the girl's breast and pressed her tightly to her, as though antic.i.p.ating a struggle, and looked up in my direction.

Crimson dripped from my sister's lips, stained her teeth and tongue. Blood welled from the two small wounds on the girl's neck. One tiny red river trickled down onto her breast, onto her seducer's hand; the other braided itself into the stray lock of Zsuzsanna's hair.

My sister blinked at me with burnished brown-gold eyes, eyes that were blank and feral, the eyes of a lioness interrupted while feeding on the kill. She did not know me, for there was no sign of emotion or recognition in them; but she must have judged me harmless, for she went back to her prey almost at once. I watched as she bared inhumanly sharp teeth; watched as they sank into tender flesh and widened the wounds. The girl cried out sharply and struggled, at which Zsuzsanna swiftly fastened her lips upon the wounds and began to suck.

The girl at once fell still.

I would have thrown myself upon them and tried to free the girl, but I had already felt the vampire's strength. I turned, thinking to fetch a weapon from the outer room, but a hand upon my shoulder stopped me.

"Arkady."

I looked up. V. stood before me, no longer the radiant avenging angel, but an utterly human creature that spoke to me with my father's voice, gazed at me with my father's eyes, held my father's Colt in his right hand.

Without thought, I s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him and hurried towards my sister, whose lips were still pressed to the neck of the girl in her arms. I stepped beside them, pressed the cold metal barrel of the revolver against my sister's neck, careful to angle it so that the girl was not threatened, and begged, "Zsuzsa-stop!"

Zsuzsa's eyes had been closed in focused ecstasy as she drank; now she did not cease her drinking, but growled deep in her throat and lifted her lids enough to look at me from the corner of her eyes. And in her satiated, slightly drunken gaze, I saw no fear.

"Stop! For the love of G.o.d, stop!" I shouted, but I knew she would not, just as I suspected that what I was about to do was useless, yet I did it nevertheless.

I squeezed the trigger. The weapon discharged; I stumbled backwards at its report and coughed as a puff of sulfur smoke stung my throat, nose, eyes.

Zsuzsa staggered, her blood-smeared face raised, her lovely features contorted, her sharp pearl teeth champing with rage. Still she held on to her victim. As the smoke cleared, a blackened, gaping tear in her neck became visible, and began to spurt bright, fresh blood which I knew was not her own.

Then she steadied; and as I watched, astounded, the wound ceased its bleeding, and began to close itself. Within seconds, it was entirely healed, and only the shadow of gunpowder remained as evidence of the insult. Zsuzsa bowed her head once again, entirely unafraid of me, and pressed her lips again to the girl's throat.

I threw myself upon her and tried to pull the girl away, knowing it was hopeless. And my sister-my small, frail sister, once crippled and so feeble she could scarcely walk down the manor steps to greet me-balanced her victim in one arm and with the other struck me.

The strength of that blow propelled me across the room and into the wall; the gun clattered to the floor. Somehow I managed to stay on my feet, and sagged, with a low cry of defeat, against the cold stone.

There was nothing I could do to save the poor girl's life; nothing I could do except watch, sobbing silently, as Zsuzsa drank. Frau Mueller's approaching death seemed to fill my sister with increasing excitement and abandon, and she began to drink more greedily, in loud, frenzied gulps, until at last the girl gave a long, weak groan, and fell. Zsuzsa caught her, wrapping her arms about the girl's waist, and lifting her as easily as a mother might an infant, held her in her arms and continued to drink until Frau Mueller released a long, rattling sigh.

V., who had been watching with solemn approval, stepped forward, and, taking the girl from Zsuzsa's grasp, said: "Enough! It is over. More is not good, not when she is dead."

And panting Zsuzsa, her lips dripping blood, seemed to accept this. Lazily, like an animal who has fed well and then goes to lie in the sun, she closed her eyes with contentment and sank down onto the stone floor in front of the altar to rest.

Carrying the girl's milk-white body in his arms, V. turned to me and said, "Come."

"My wife!" I demanded, sick at heart to think that she might have suffered a fate similar to Frau Mueller's. "What have you done to my wife?"

"Come," V. commanded, in a tone that said if I wished ever to see Mary again, I must obey at once.

He moved through the doorway. I picked up Father's revolver and followed, past the motionless heap that remained of Laszlo, to the theatre of death and the butcher's table, where V. laid Frau Mueller's corpse beside that of her husband.

He looked up at me and paused; at once I repeated, "My wife! Where is Mary? Tell me at once!" Uselessly, I brandished the revolver.

A small smile played upon his lips; with a strength that dwarfed mine, he reached forward and easily pulled the gun from my grasp, but did not point it at me. "So," he said. "You have come to yourself, then."

"My wife-!"

"It merely seemed fitting that the child should be born here. She is in labour, but quite well.

Dunya attends her."

"Dunya..." I broke off, having intended to say, Dunya waits for me outside in the carriage; it is impossible! Then I saw the amus.e.m.e.nt in his gaze, and closed my gaping mouth in horror at the realisation that both I and the little chamber-maid had been his p.a.w.ns.

The merriment in his eyes died abruptly; his tone became hushed, that of one explaining the most sacred of mysteries. "We shall discuss your wife shortly. But first... You have learned the truth tonight, Arkady. This is what I am; accept it, and do not fear us."

"I can never accept such brutality," I whispered, inclining my head at the victims lying upon the table but closing my eyes, unable to look.

"The brutality of Nature Herself," said he. "We are predators; who can fault us for struggling to survive?

Who can tell the hawk he must not hunt, the lion he must not kill? Who dares call that sin?"

"Hawks do not coldly plan to torment and kill other hawks," I countered, my voice trembling, my features contorted with disgust. "Nor lions other lions. But it is murder when humans set forth to do so."

"Arkady," he replied softly, "we are not human."

To this I had no reply, but averted my face, wanting to flee the grisly sight upon the table.

V. spoke again, in the same reverently somber tone. "Do you remember the ceremony, and what was spoken of the covenant?"

"I remember." Bitter, I stared down at the floor, recalling the numbed, hopeless grief in my father's eyes.

"The ritual is complete. I took your will from you then, to ensure that you would return to me now. These are the terms of the covenant: That you will a.s.sist us in attaining nourishment; that, for the good of the town, you will prevent the creation of new strigoi. In return, I will never harm you or yours, but will see you and they want nothing-"

"But you have broken the covenant! You have harmed Zsuzsa!"

V. lifted his chin regally. "I have given her life; she had none before. For love, I have made her strigoi, that she might know happiness with me. I accept the responsibility of caring for her always. Will you help us?"

And he raised the gun in his hand. For a confusing instant, I thought he might aim it at me; instead, he turned the barrel towards himself and pressed the b.u.t.t into my palm. I closed my fingers around the weapon and stared at him.

"I give you back your will, Arkady. You must freely decide whether to return my love or to reject me, knowing what I am and what I require." V. paused, then gazed down at the corpses and asked, "You have heard, I am sure, of the peasant superst.i.tion concerning the prevention of new strigoi"

I looked down at the two dead innocents lying before me and whispered, "I know it is what they did to Father's body."

"Yes," V. said, then turned to gaze at the instruments arranged beside the table; and I followed that look and saw the mallet, the shortened stakes, the knives.

I understood immediately what he wished, and cried: "No, I cannot!"

Had I believed I had any chance at all of overpowering him, I would have destroyed him in that instant with the implements surrounding us-but there was nothing I could do.

V."s expression was perfectly hard, perfectly cool, perfectly matter-of-fact, as though we discussed some business matter concerning the estate over which we minorly disagreed.

"Your father despised this task, also; and so he procured Laszlo. If you wish, you may make similar * arrangements. I do not care how it is done. But this once, it must be done now- and quickly! You must, Arkady. I cannot. You must."

"No!" I turned and headed to leave. Immediately, a gust of wind swept through the room.

The door to the outer chamber slammed shut in front of me, and the bolt slid into the lock.

Behind me, V."s voice said, "If you do not, they will rise as strigoi... and they are not bound by the covenant, as I and your sister are. They will be free to harm anyone: your wife. Your soon-to-be-born child."

I faced him. "But if I refuse to fulfill my role in the covenant? You say I have free will, that I can decide, but I am hardly acting of my own volition if you resort to blackmail-"

V."s face was an impa.s.sive mask. "You are free. And I, like any predator, am free to act in a manner that ensures my survival. I am voievod. I do not deal lightly with those who would betray me."

"You killed Stefan," I said softly, hatred suddenly eclipsing fear. "You killed my mother..."I thought of the wolf-dog who had killed both my brothers, of the wolf at the window who had come so close to killing my wife, and my knees began to fail. I grasped the table's edge to steady myself.His expression, his voice, were utterly without emotion. "It broke my heart, of course. But your father could at times be enormously stubborn. It was his choice to disobey and cause such tragedy." He lifted a stake and the mallet from the tools beside the table and proffered them to me. "Just as it is your choice now. Can you be strong, Arkady? Can you set aside your own self-interest in order to do what is best for your family? For the village?"

"Are you threatening my wife and child?" I whispered.

And the Impaler smiled, ever so faintly, and said, "It would do no good to threaten you, Arkady. You are too full of romantic notions of heroism and self-sacrifice."

I looked into those jade eyes, knowing that I was truly free from their hypnotic allure, that the Impaler told the truth that my mind was my own. The return of my will I could not fathom, except to think he allowed it out of some twisted notion of honour. "If I agree... will you take me to Mary? Will you swear not to harm her, or the baby?"

V. gave a solemn nod. "As long as you abide by the covenant... so shall I."

Very well, then; for Mary's sake, I decided I could bear to play his game long enough to set the Muellers free from the strigoi's curse. Indeed, if V. would not free them, I was obligated to see that they did not rise.

I took the stake and mallet from him. V. turned Herr Mueller's body over so that the slack face gazed sightlessly up at the dark ceiling; and then the monster fastened his keen gaze upon me, his eyes ablaze with unholy light.

With shaking hands, I set the stake so that it dented the greyish white flesh of the dead man's chest, just above his heart; and then I lifted the mallet above my head, and with one strong, ringing blow, brought it down.

Mueller's body jerked limply, lifelessly-then writhed, come suddenly to life in a burst of hideous energy. At the same instant, his grey lips parted to emit such an ear-piercing shriek that I recoiled and dropped the mallet, utterly unnerved.

"He is alive!" I cried with horror.

"He shall not be for long!" V. retrieved the mallet and gestured with it at the miserable creature on the table. My first blow had plunged the stake some two inches deep into his heart; impossible, indeed, for anyone to survive such a mortal wound for more than seconds. "See how he suffers! Hurry-release him from such pain!"

I emitted a sob and stood frozen, unable to bear the sight of such agony; unable to kill.

And then Mueller let go a moan too piteous for any mortal heart to bear.

"Again!" V. urged, thrusting the mallet at me. "Harder! Quickly!"

I seized the mallet and struck again. Mueller thrashed like a great dying fish and howled.

I struck again and again, grimacing, tears streaming down my cheeks. Again, until the poor man stilled at last and the stake was well sunk into his chest-yet he had shed not a drop of blood. Staring down at his contorted features, I could think of nothing but Jeffries as I chose the largest, thickest blade from among the tools and went about the grisly business of separating the head from the torso.

It was horrid work; sickening work, and I cannot bear to describe it in detail here. Most sickening, though, was the abnormally bright gleam in V."s eyes as he watched me perform the task.And then the time came to deal likewise with Frau Mueller. For modesty's sake, I lowered my eyes and averted them as much as possible when placing the stake between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

I prayed that she, unlike her unfortunate husband, was truly dead; after all, had not V.

forbidden Zsuzsanna to continue drinking because the girl had died?