Part 2 (1/2)

CHAPTER FIVE

Ivona wondered about the man's sudden behavior. Her gaze fastened on his sweat-beaded brow. At that moment, it wasn't attraction she read in his expression, but fear.

Perhaps he was merely trying to mask his reaction to her story-she knew the details were repulsive-or perhaps he was bored. Whatever was wrong with him, he seemed ready to come unglued at the seams.

Trying to sooth his nerves, she s.h.i.+fted her stare to one of the others and lowered her voice to a soft whisper, nearly inaudible in the quiet room. ”Impalement was by no means Prince Vlad's only method of torture. He frequently indulged in other horrific acts of brutality such as nailing hats to people's skulls, cutting off limbs, noses and ears, blinding, strangulation, mutilation of s.e.x organs, scalping, skinning alive, exposure to weather or wild animals, burning-the list is endless. No one was exempt from his cruelty. Men, women, children, peasants, and boyars alike all succ.u.mbed to his punishments.”

No longer eased back against the pliable cus.h.i.+on of the leather armchair, Ivona sat perched on the edge of her seat, poised and ready to leap to her feet in one fluid motion.

The hairs on her arms bristled with anger. Her jaw hadbegun to widen and thicken as her teeth elongated in antic.i.p.ation of attack.

Ivona panted as she struggled for self-control. She was divulging unimportant tidbits of information and allowing The Evil to override her discipline once again. Forcing herself to relax back into her seat, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, letting the air escape her lips in a long, drawn out hiss. Then she smoothed her brow with both hands and gingerly ma.s.saged her aching temples.

”Enough with the unpleasantries of the past,” she began with a smile. ”Back to my beloved Dragomir.”

Ivona took a long swig from the cup on the table beside her, downing the entire contents in one final gulp. When a drop of the coveted elixir escaped the corner of her mouth, she adroitly swiped the insolent bead from her cheek.

Instinctively, she placed her finger between her lips and noiselessly sucked the small drip from the end.

Then she calmly sat the empty chalice on the table. She felt alive and vibrant, her mood suddenly light and energetic as the fresh blood pulsated through her veins, reanimating her dead flesh with a fresh charge of life. Now she was ready to speak of her lover.

Lucian watched, mesmerized as a pale red flush moved across Ivona's face, not on top of, but rather under the surface, as though a wave of liquid rushed below her skinlike a fervent crimson tide. The eerie blush illuminated her porcelain skin with a soft pink hue, making her cold, translucent flesh appear radiant, full of life and vitality. Lime sparks of light flashed in her eyes, making them glow with the supernatural intensity of two blazing orbs. Her pupils became thin and elongated, like those of a cat, appearing as long black slits in the middle of her illuminated gaze.

The gloom around her seemed to grow more sinister, as though even the dim light of the room shrank back in fear from this unearthly creature that was completely at ease amongst the ominous shadows dancing along the walls. She appeared not to sit, but rather hover above her chair like a luminous apparition. Lucian had to wonder if her elegantly clad frame might not just simply lift into the air with the graceful manner of a weightless spirit and glide about the s.p.a.ce above his head.

The candles about the room flickered indecisively, seemingly as if they might all go out in one big poof, leaving its occupants in a pitch-black fissure of darkness. The intensity of her mystical stare culminated into a ferocious vortex, appearing to leap from the sockets in her skull while she studied each of the others around her as though contemplating a difficult choice. Then, just as quickly as it began, all paranormal activity suddenly waned, like the fading light of a dying flame.

Lucian tentatively glanced at the others, wondering if they'd just witnessed this bizarre phenomenon as well. His attention moved to the goblet in her had. What was in thatcup? Some deep part of him suspected the answer, but the other refused to believe.

The Chalice in the square... It appeared as though Ivona was not only some strange creature of the night, but a thief as well. Then her melodious voice shattered his thoughts and his gaze moved to her sensual mouth.

”From the moment I laid eyes on you.” She paused, obviously catching her slip. ”On...him, I knew I was lost.

He was so handsome, so strong, and he was by no means a novice in the ways of seduction.”

She stared off across the room for a lengthy moment, her ruby lips curling into a warm, b.u.t.tery smile as she became lost in the romantic memories of her lover's courts.h.i.+p. Her eyes danced with tender dreaminess. Then she laughed, startling Lucian and the others with her sudden outburst of mirth.

”At first, I tried to resist his charms,” she declared, her voice full of merriment. ”But my Dragomir was very persistent.” She wagged a long, shapely finger as though scolding her audience. ”He refused to give up. Alas, I could not deny his advances for long. My heart was captured.”

With a sentimental sigh, she placed her hand over her chest. Her dark lashes fluttered downward, veiling the pain that suddenly filled her loving gaze. ”Al meu amator...” she whispered quietly, ”...my love.”

When she opened her eyes, they were cold and unreadable, all prior traces of grief and sorrow carefully concealed behind a guarded stare. ”We began to meet in thesally port beneath Bran Castle. Due to the infrequent use of the pa.s.sage by others, our affair continued for months without discovery. It was there my Dragomir confessed his love and begged me to marry him. He wanted a family.”

Lucian first felt a stab of jealousy, then one of sorrow.

Those were things never to come for Ivona and Dragomir.

He knew the tragic ending to her story; he knew what would happen to her beloved.

Grandfather...

Ivona glanced down at her hands, which lay motionless in her lap. A family with children was something she could never have now. Her heart had died the day she let The Evil take residence within her aching soul, and all joys afforded to mortals were lost-that was the price of immortality.

”We both knew it was too dangerous to continue seeing each other, even in secrecy. If Prince Vlad found out, I would have met the same fate as many other unchaste maidens. We also came to realize that we could not start a family under his rule. The man's wickedness had become uncontrollable.”

Bitterness clouding her vision, Ivona's lids fluttered closed. ”No one was safe as long as he was in power.” Her insides had grown as cold as an artic wind. Then, after a long pause, ”Not even his knights,” she declared in a weak and tremulous whisper.Slowly, she opened her eyes, once more meeting the familiar and now strangely comforting gaze of the man across from her. ”At that time, Matthias Corvinus was King of Hungary. He resided at Hunedoara Castle located at the end of the Zlasti River. It was there we decided to make our sanctuary. We could only pray King Corvinus would allow us take refuge within the safety of his rule.”

Ivona stared at the flickering flame of a nearby candle, lost in the melancholic sadness of her painful memoirs. She fingered the golden medallion dangling between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s once again, lovingly stroking its meticulously engraved surface as though it were a faithful pet.

”Not long after we had composed a plan of escape, Prince Vlad decided to employ his army to provide him with another entertaining show of merciless impalings. On St. Bartholomew's Day, during an outdoor festival at Sibiu, Vlad had thousands of citizens arrested and impaled, claiming they were either treacherous bourgeoisie, or supporters of such. He had them-men, women, and infants-impaled on the fringes of a nearby forest like human banners, waiting to greet any newcomers entering the town.”

Ivona's mouth curled downward into a sour frown. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head with abhorrence. ”As had become custom, he had his dining table and lunch placed at close range, so he could enjoy his meal while watching the tortures firsthand. The blood of his victims was honey for his bread. He savored the taste oftheir escaping life, capturing their essence as though their dying souls were rightfully his to h.o.a.rd.”

An electrifying shudder reverberated through her insides, sobering her thoughts. She envisioned the horrific scene with startling clarity. Five centuries had pa.s.sed since that dreadful day, and yet, she remembered it as if it had occurred only yesterday. Her bottom lip quivered as she struggled to contain her anguish.

So much death. So many innocents. I will never forget you, my love, or forgive your murderer.

As though feeling her misery, the candles' flames swayed in a sorrowful rhythm. Cascading rain on a nearby window refracted the ethereal glow, casting eerie ripples around the dim room like the reflection of water within a submerged s.h.i.+p. Only the occasional flash of lightning and crack of thunder interrupted the ghostly undulation.

”My beloved Dragomir,” she sighed. ”We had nearly escaped The Evil, but it had finally become more than he could bear. The merciless killing of innocent men, the senseless murders of women and children, he could not hold his tongue any more. I knew his heart was heavy with guilt, even before he was forced to partic.i.p.ate in this final horrific spectacle of wickedness.”

Lucian clasped his hands together to still their shaking.

His breaths had quickened, bordering on hyperventilation.This version of Dragomir's role as a knight of Prince Vlad Dracul was starting to veer sharply from what he'd always been told-what he'd always been taught. Had his ancestors been wrong?

Since childhood, he'd spent every day cursing his tainted blood, begging G.o.d's forgiveness for the iniquity in his lineage. He'd kept himself separated from others, avoided emotional contact, all out of fear that some deep dark evil lingered within his soul and would ultimately destroy anything good he touched.

Anger clouded his mind. Had his whole history been a lie? What of those before him? How many men of his line had carried this burden? How many had gone to their graves after a lifetime of loneliness and self-loathing?

He thought of the pendant dangling beneath his s.h.i.+rt.

Pa.s.sed down through the generations, it wasn't an heirloom, but rather a curse. A male always carried it, kept it safe, kept it secret, but from what or whom?

Then his gaze met and locked with Ivona's, and he suddenly understood. From her.

She lifted the gold medallion to her lips and kissed it. ”I forgive you, al meu amator,” she whispered. ”I forgive you.”

A tiny shudder wracked her frame as she stroked her amulet once more before releasing it. The charm fell to her chest with an audible snap. Her mood seemingly veering sharply to anger, she glowered at the others about the room.

”The repugnant smell of death and cries for mercy must have permeated the air around him, saturating his everypore until he lost his senses. It wasn't until later, I overheard rumors that my strong, proud knight had fallen to his knees and vomited at the feet of one of the unfortunates who had been pitilessly skewered by his own hand. Upon witnessing Dragomir's weakness at the sight of death, Prince Vlad became angry and instructed his guards to impale him also.”