I curled my lip at him and stomped my foot again. “Oh, very well!” I waved my hand at him, starting off down the lane.

Again, he fell into step beside me.

“You know, I would like nothing more than for you to be free of him so we could be together,” Ignatius said after a long bit of silence.

“My life is very complicated as you well reminded me at the ball,” I said fiercely.

We were now quite close to my home, walking in the shadow of the great wall that surrounded it. The ivy was thick and lush, its dark leaves black in the night. I wished to see the foliage as it is in the sun in that moment, but I knew that was quite impossible.

“Yes, but I am still here, am I not? I have sought you out because you are important to me. And I am quite frustrated, as you are, that we cannot be freely together.” His voice was now quite somber.

I took note of the priest garb at once. “You say I am complicated, yet you wear priest garb.”

He shrugged. “On occasion.”

“Why?”

“Because sometimes it is necessary.”

“Why?”

“Must you ask so many questions?”

I threw up my hands, turning to walk away. He caught my wrist and hurled me into the ivy. I turned about just before I hit the wall, my back slapping against the stones. Then he was on me, kissing me fiercely, his hands buried in my hair. I responded to his kiss eagerly, my anger quickly draining way into passion. And why should I lie here? I admit I was a beast to him to see if he would still want me. I am quite happy that he did.

I am a bit embarrassed to admit it, dearest diary, but I let him ravish me right then and there. Openly, in the lane, buried in the ivy, I let him take me. Clothes were pushed desperately aside and then we were joined. I absolutely delighted in the frenzy of his passion for me.

Alas, I am truly a wicked, scandalous woman and though my cheeks should be quite red, I am afraid they are not.

“Do not doubt,” he whispered in my ear. “Do not doubt for a moment, that I want nothing more than to call you mine and love you for eternity.”

I turned my face so I could gaze into his eyes and managed to say with trembling lips, “I only want the same.”

Our kisses were full of adoration for one another as we straightened out our clothing. Wrapped in each other’s arms, we kissed softly and gently, our passion melting away into something much more peaceful.

“You need to return home,” he said finally.

“I know,” I answered.

His hand stroked my hair, then he cradled my face as he kissed me very lovingly. “The fountain at the hotel at the base of the hill. I will be there every night at ten o’clock. Come to me when you can.”

“I will. I promise,” I answered him.

He drew me out of the ivy, and I stood quietly as he arranged my cloak around me. I could not help but smile at him and his very stoic face suddenly smiled back at me.

“Are you truly a priest?” I finally asked.

There was pain in his eyes, and he turned his face away to hide it. “Our past is our past. Let us not speak of it.”

“Were you?” I persisted.

Ignatius turned toward me. I saw the depth of his despair and it made me cold inside. “The past is best left to the past.” Taking my hand, he drew me with him down the street to the gate that lead up the drive to my house.

“You know where we live?”

He pointed to the “V” with the red dragon curled around it on the gate. “Dracul. Vlad Dracula.”

I looked down at my ring and his gaze followed.

“He puts his seal upon all he possesses.”

“My heart is yours,” I said firmly.

With a smile, Ignatius kissed my knuckles and then released my hand. “And that, dear Glynis, is my salvation in the darkness.”

And then he was gone.

I pouted a bit, but then I heard the sound of a carriage. I leaped over the gate and fled down the drive to the house. I was a blur of motion. By the time Vlad entered my room, I was in my bath. Magda is required to have a hot bath for me when I return from feeding. I always feel sullied by my victims and feel much better after bathing.

“How was the hunt?” Vlad sat on my bed, regarding me.

“A butcher. Quite disgusting. Oh, yes, and a whore.”

He sniffed the air. “Ah, yes.”

I sunk deeper into the bath and tried to look innocent.

“Glynis?”

“Yes?”

“I think we shall stay on here in Buda until we leave for England.”

“I thought perhaps we would be returning soon to the castle.”

“There is nothing in the castle for us. We shall stay here. Do you find this acceptable?”

“But the sisters,” I whispered.

Vlad merely shrugged.

“Vlad, the sisters,” I persisted.

“They are of no consequence,” he finally said.

I felt tears in my eyes, hot and heavy.

Vlad rose to his feet and moved to the side of the bath. With the flick of his hand, he dismissed Magda and she rushed out. Looming over me, he gazed down.

“We shall stay in Buda and continue our lives as the Count and Countess Dracula until all the arrangements have been made and we move to England.”

“Cneajna, Elina, Ariana, what of them, Vlad?”

“As I said, their time has passed. Leave them to their castle home.”

“Will you dismiss me as easily as you dismiss them when I am no longer of worth to you?”

Vlad laughed at this. “Do not be foolish. You are nothing like your sisters.”

“But Cneajna is the first!”

Reaching down, his hand trailed down the side of my face, down my throat to my breast. Leaning over, he kissed my lips. “No, you are the first. I shall find you new sisters in England.”

Twisting around in the bath, I rose onto my knees. “You cannot do this.”

“Why not?” He knelt beside the bath, looking at me fiercely. “Why not?”

“You love them!”

“Their time has passed,” he answered me. He grabbed hold of my wrist and lifted me out of the water. I dangled from his grasp until he drew me tight against him. “Your time has now come.”

I gasped as he drew his sharp nail across his throat, opening a wound.

“Drink,” he said.

I knew then there was a hidden meaning to this, but I could not fathom it. I still cannot fathom it. But I did drink. His blood was the richest of all blood, perhaps because I was created from it. As I drank, he bit into my neck and also drank.

The ecstasy swept me away as I shuddered with the power of this blood filling me.

Later, when he laid me down in our hidden room, my body limp and my mind drunk with his power, he pressed soft kisses over my naked flesh. He literally adorned my body with his lips and his hair fell over me like thick rich ropes of velvet.

Drunk with his power, I could feel his desires and thoughts. I heard the sound of battles and felt the heat of war. I heard his voice commanding armies and the screams of his victims. All the while, he laid his kisses upon my fevered body.

My eyes fluttered as he settled between my thighs and his mouth began to consume me, making me writhe beneath him. The shadows danced over the walls and I saw them evolve, twisting into the shapes of thousands of impaled people. Then the shadows fell away to reveal ghostly images of people. I saw a handsome man with features similar to Vlad, yet more striking, riding into battle in the robes of a Turkish prince. I felt Vlad’s hate for him, his need to destroy him. I saw Cneajna in the sunlight, flowers in her hair, holding Vlad close as he spoke of his conquests.

All the while, he made me gasp and claw at his hair and shoulders.

I saw Erzsébet, inhuman and beautiful, coming to him, holding him to her breast as he drank her blood.

I saw it all. I felt it all, yet all the while he feasted on me.

At last I screamed his name and he rose up to press deep into me and hold me tight as I held onto his broad shoulders. I was crying desperately and the room spun around me.

He did not kiss me, but stared down into my face, watching my eyes, watching my tears, then he lowered me down, as I clawed at my hair and wept.

“Now you know what I am, who I am,” he said.

I cried as I pressed my hands up against him.

“Tell me who I am,” he whispered and once more thrust into me.

“Dracul! Dracul! Vlad Tepes! The Impaler! The Dracul!”

Finally, I understood exactly what those words meant. He had been the Impaler, the Dragon, the Prince of Wallachia who had fought against the Turk invaders and his own brother. He was a man of vision and of passion. He was a force to be feared. He was my Master and in my blood.

He lowered himself over me, burying his face in my neck and hair, his hand lying upon my breast.

“And who are you?”

In my drunken madness, as the reality of his mortal life mingled with mine, I sobbed and laid my hand on his hair.

“Yours,” I whispered in agony. “Your wife.”

And he kissed me and I knew then we were both damned.

Chapter 30

The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright

24th of April, 1820

Buda, Hungary

I have not even begun to fully understand what I experienced with Vlad. I still have Vlad’s memories haunting me, and his presence seems to always be near me even when he is absent. Slowly, the strength of his power is fading, but it has left me feeling frightened and disillusioned.

Yet, he has released me to live my new life. I have settled into running the household, even if it is by night, and he is allowing me to redecorate the parlor. I almost feel like a true aristocrat. And, sadly, I now truly feel like his wife.

I now loathe him more than I did before. I feel a bond to him that I despise. Meanwhile, he seems content in the new order of things. But I am not content. I do not wish to be his wife. I do not wish to know him as anything more than the monster that murdered my family. I do not want to know him as a man or understand his motivations as a mortal.

I have no desire to be sympathetic toward him.

Tonight, he entered the sitting room where I was busy arranging a bouquet of flowers. He drew near and stared down at me.

“What is it?” I asked him sharply.

He merely looked bemused. “I am going out of town for a few days to tend to matters.”

“The sisters?”

“No. Business matters,” he answered.

“How long will you be gone?”

“A few days. No more than four,” he answered me.

I frowned at him. “Are you leaving with the Baroness?”

“Jealous?”

I merely shrugged.

“I will return in a few nights,” he said simply. He leaned over and kissed my lips softly.

I followed him out of curiosity and saw the servants taking his bags to the carriage. Sir Stephen stood nervously near the horses dressed in traveling clothes.

“Good evening, Sir Stephen,” I said as I drew near, my eyes narrowing.

“Countess Dracula,” he said nervously. “How are you this evening?”

“Well, thank you,” I answered. I could feel my teeth sliding down to flash between my lips.

He gulped and forced a smile. “That is good to hear.”

“Glynis, stop terrifying Stephen,” Vlad said, slipping past me.

“Oh, she was not bother-” Stephen started to protest, then gave up.

Vlad turned and drew me to him. “You are my first bride. Do not forget that. We shall create a life for ourselves beyond this one.”

I nodded, glancing back at Sir Stephen. “I know this.”

Vlad directed my attention back to him with the tips of his fingers tucked under my chin. He kissed me firmly, then released me.

I do not delude myself into believing he loves me. I think he is merely infatuated by the concept of being a mortal aristocrat and living a mortal life with a bride at his side. But, in that moment, I was afraid he did love me.