Read The Vengeance of the Vampire Bride Online
Authors: Rhiannon Frater
Tags: #vampires, #vampire, #horror, #gothic, #dracula, #gothic horror, #regency era
A terrifying growl erupted from the
throat of Princess Cneajna. She roared, her face contorted with
anger. “Do not speak of her in my home!”
“She betrayed us all! She usurped
Cneajna!” Elina declared. “She should be the one to
die!”
“He loved her best!” Ariana sobbed,
sliding to the floor, her hands tangling in her hair. “He loved her
more than us!”
Cneajna grabbed the smallest vampire by
her hair and wrenched her head back. “Do not say those
words!”
Ariana’s cries filled the crypt as
Elina took a seductive step toward us. “Go back and kill her for
us,” she whispered, her hands sliding over her nude body, her gaze
provocative as it caught my eyes.
I could feel her power pushing at my
mind, trying to seize control of my thoughts, and make me her
slave. I smiled, amused by her actions. I am immune to vampiric
powers. The vampire cupped her breasts and licked her full lips,
her eyes full of wanton promises. Not realizing I was not affected
by the creature’s power, Magda threw her fire ball at Elina,
forcing the vampire to spring back with a shriek. Collapsing at my
feet, I knew Magda was spent.
The Brides surged forward, sharp teeth
bared, hands clawed. I drew out Lady Antoinetta’s rosary and the
crypt exploded with bright light. The Brides screamed, twisting
about, shielding their faces from the glory of the
relic.
Sheathing my sword, I quickly leaned
down to lift Magda. She struggled to rise, drained of her power and
strength. My arm about her waist, I heaved her to her feet as her
arms slid around me. Her dark eyes strayed back to the silent,
wilted form of Vlad Dracula.
“We should kill him,” she whispered,
surrendering to my will.
“We cannot.”
Lifting up the small rosary, burning
with a fire that I did not truly understand, but was grateful for,
I advanced on the three women cowering before us. They shrieked as
I approached, scrambling back into the shadows. Tears of blood
poured down the face of the beautiful princess as she bared her
sharp teeth. The little one scrambled behind a pillar, crying out
as the light touched her. The darker one retreated reluctantly, her
long hair falling over her naked body as she raised a hand to
shield her eyes.
Crushing Magda against my side, I
rushed across the chapel darting around the still burning coffin. I
knew the Brides were following, for the relic remained illuminated
in my grip. It would remain a light on our path until the Brides
gave up their pursuit. I could sense them slinking along in the
shadows as I reached the entrance to the stairwell. Pressing the
beaded chain of the rosary into Magda’s hand I pushed her forward.
Stumbling, she made her way up the stairs, the unearthly light
illuminating her way.
I turned to gaze back into the chapel
as I drew my silver dagger. I knew the Brides would pursue us out
of hunger and loyalty to their fallen master. The dying embers of
the destroyed coffin illuminated the pale form of Princess Cneajna
as she watched us attempt to escape. Tilting her head slightly, she
let out a low cackle.
I leaped back as the dark bride lashed
out at me from above. I fell back on the stairs to witness her
crawl along the ceiling. Her dark eyes glimmered with red fire as
she bared her fangs and her long nails swept through the air above
my head. I leaped to my feet, grabbed her long hair, and wrenched
her down. My silver dagger sliced deep into her chest as she fell,
her blood pouring out in a cold gush. It was not a killing blow,
but it sent the vampire to her knees. She wailed in pain as she
crumpled.
Retreating up the stairs, I watched as
the little Bride threw herself over the fallen form of her sister.
Princess Cneajna’s eyes flashed with dark rage as she began to move
swiftly after me.
I turned and ran up the darkened
stairwell after Magda. Lord Astir had been clear. I was not to kill
the vampire Brides, but I could prevent them from killing Magda or
harming me. The light from above barely illuminated my way as I
bound up the steps.
“Do you think you can escape me?”
Cneajna whispered from the darkness.
“Yes, I do,” I responded.
I could feel her power swelling and
boiling up the stairwell behind me. Out of all the Brides, she was
the strongest. According to her stature in the household, she would
be the one to feed first. I was certain she had taken most of the
blood from the gypsies they had managed to slaughter since their
confinement had begun.
I felt the brush of her hand against my
back. I whirled about with my dagger arcing to slice through her
cold flesh, but it slid through empty air. Her arms seized me from
behind as her fangs burrowed into my throat. I gritted my teeth
against the agony of her bite as she drew in one long draught of my
blood. Gagging, her mouth released me.
“Poison!” she gasped.
Gripping her arms tightly, I sharply
bent forward, her body sliding over my head and hurtling downward.
Her pale form was swallowed up by the darkness. I sprinted up the
remaining stairs and burst into the long corridor. I was certain I
was only a few steps before my pursuers. Magda was at the far end
of the hall with her arm raised to use the rosary as a
torchlight.
“Behind you,” she gasped.
“Run, Magda!” I shouted as I unsheathed
my second dagger.
Spinning about, I caught the smaller
vampire with the blade, slicing deep into her throat. She shrieked,
raked my face with her nails, and slid back into the shadows.
Ignoring the burning pain of my wounded neck and face, I ran after
Magda. I could hear the Brides racing along the walls and ceiling,
hidden from my view.
“Magda, they are coming!”
Her scream echoed through the castle,
and I stumbled through a darkened doorway before spotting the light
of the rosary ahead. She was crouched in a corner, holding her hand
up over her head as the two dark haired Brides skittered away from
the light into the blackness looming in the rafters. Snagging Magda
about the waist, I pulled her along as we plunged down the hallway
that would lead us back to the kitchens.
I could hear the Brides scurrying along
behind us, hoping we would falter, so they could attack.
“He is poison,” Cneajna’s voice
slithered through the corridor. “Kill him, feast on the
girl!”
Magda faltered in her steps as I
dragged her along. The Brides faded in and out of view, crouching
in doorways, sliding up the walls, floating above us. I could feel
Magda’s heart beating rapidly in her bosom. They were taunting us,
attempting to terrify us, and despite my long years dealing with
the undead, I felt fear well within me.
I knew they could not kill me, but if
they wounded me sufficiently, I could possibly be trapped here
until I escaped. I had no inclination to find out how cruel the
three women could be. I remembered far too well how their husband
had tortured me for many weeks trying to determine if he could kill
me. It was Astir who had freed me.
The smallest Bride darted out of the
gloom on her hands and feet and snapped her teeth at Magda’s ankle.
Slamming my dagger down into Ariana’s neck, I pinned
her.
Magda stumbled out of my grasp and fell
against the thick curtains covering one window. The rosary blazed
before her and I heard an anguished cry as Elina retreated. Before
I could instruct her to open the curtains, Magda gripped the old,
dusty fabric and drew it back.
Sunlight poured through the grimy glass
into the corridor washing over me and the vampire at my feet.
Dragging my dagger out Ariana’s flesh, I stepped back into the
sunlight as she screamed in pain. Her skin blackened as she
scrambled in a blind panic, trying to free herself from the rays of
the sun.
The princess dashed out of the dark,
grabbed the girl, and dragged her away. Both were burning by the
time they found refuge in the shadows dwelling further down the
hallway. Collapsing together, the vampires screamed in anguish as
Elina threw a tapestry over them to extinguish the fire racing over
their bodies.
Sliding my daggers into their sheaths
as I ran, I followed Magda into the kitchens. Though she was weak
and panicked, she bravely led us to our freedom. Together, we fell
through the doorway and collapsed.
The flat stones of the courtyard were
warm and comforting beneath my body. The pain of my wounds faded as
I healed. Magda slowly rolled onto her back, her hands clutching
the rosary to her chest as she gazed up at the soft clouds floating
over the serene blue sky above.
“Why didn’t you let me kill him?” she
asked, her voice trembling with exhaustion and emotion.
“The repercussions of his death would
negatively affect the Countess far more than you could ever
imagine,” I explained.
“Truly?”
“Yes, truly. I vowed to protect her and
I will. What she has done is...” I faltered as the image of Vlad’s
shriveled body returned to my mind. Sitting up, I rested my elbows
on my knees and took a deep breath. “What she has done could result
in very dire consequences.”
Magda’s dark eyes closed as her lips
trembled. “We must help her.”
“And we shall.” I leaned over and laid
my hand gently over hers. “I vow that I shall. Trust
me.”
Opening her eyes, she focused her gaze
upon my face. “I do, Adem. I do trust you.”
Together, we rose and
departed.
Letter to Astir from Adem
continued...
...as you can see the
situation is quite dire. I await your gentle guidance.
Your servant,
Adem
Letter from Astir to Adem
June 6, 1820
Prepare for my
arrival.
It is time to deal with our
beloved Countess.
Astir
Chapter 8
The Journal of Countess
Dracula
June 10, 1820
The Golden Krone Hotel,
Bistriţa
There is no moon tonight
and it fills me with dread.
Magda has done well
arranging for my family’s coffins. She had them specially made and
they are beautifully crafted. With their polished wood and delicate
engraving, they are worthy of my aristocratic family. These are no
mere pine boxes, but works of art. I am satisfied, but
unsettled.
They lay in state in a room
I procured. Despite the proprietor’s misgivings and superstitious
nature, he agreed to our unusual arrangement once Adem dealt with
him.
Sitting in the darkness of
the room, staring at the single candle burning at the head of my
father’s coffin, I cannot help but mourn them fresh and anew.
Darling little May, headstrong Mother, doting Father...how I miss
you.
Something is terribly
wrong. I sense it.
Since Magda and Adem
returned from the castle, I have been afraid. Though they assured
me that nothing happened, I cannot help but feel
trepidation.
Perhaps it is my nightmares
causing me to go mad.
Vlad haunts me.
I am afraid...
I was just finishing writing my very
dark thoughts within my journal when Adem gently knocked on the
door and entered my quiet sanctuary. After a small bob of his head
in the direction of the three coffins, he leaned over
me.
“What is it?” I inquired, my gaze
lifting to his scarred face and keen eyes.
“You have a visitor,” he
answered.
I thought of Ignatius and my heart
swelled with hope, but then I realized by his somber expression
that I was not going to be happily reunited with my
lover.
“Who is it?” I demanded in a terse
tone.
“Lord Astir,” Adem replied, offering
his arm.
I arose swiftly, my heart beating
rapidly within my bosom. I was well-fed, flush with life, warm to
the touch, and terribly afraid. The mere thought of dealing with
the fallen angel made me feel utterly wretched.
“He will be arriving within the next
few minutes.” Though his tone was brisk, I felt the gentle squeeze
of his hand on my shoulder. “Do not be afraid.”
“I’m not,” I lied.
I ignored his proffered arm and swept
past him out into the hallway. Magda stood near the door, her
expression one of apprehension. I strode past her to the staircase
that led to my potential doom. Clad in my favorite blue dress and
lacy shawl, I felt regal, yet like a child. How could I deal with a
creature that had existed since the dawn of man? He would not be
coming here for idle chatter. Astir was coming with a
purpose.
I had barely set my foot upon the floor
of the foyer when the front doors of the hotel burst open and
guards clad in red swept in and quickly formed a line at attention.
Adem strode forward swiftly to greet the tall, lean figure
descending from an ornate carriage. Clad in a long, dark green coat
over a blue velvet jacket, long gray trousers tucked into shiny
brown boots, and a silk white shirt with a froth of lace at the
collar, the fallen angel had the disconcerting appearance of a
handsome, yet strangely feminine gentleman. His long, golden curls
were swept back from his face leaving a few curls to adorn his ears
under his top hat. The eyes that were usually terrible flames of
fire were now a cool green-blue and his thin lips spread into a
wide smile upon seeing me.