Authors: Nolene-Patricia Dougan
“I could not fight for Christianity,” Vlad answered.
“Then you could fight for the Turks.”
“I don’t think I could fight for them, either.”
“The point is not that we are fighting for any side, the point is we could feed to our hearts’ content, and not get noticed by anyone.”
“We are not noticed here,” Vlad said.
“You know that is not true. The villagers whisper about us daily. Even I heard stories when I was alive about the Vampire that lived in this castle. And since I have promised not to kill any more of Katya’s people….”
“Whatever inspired you to make such a foolish promise?”
“An old friend. Don’t tell me you have not had a moment of compassion because I know you have.”
“Maybe I have, but I do want you to forget this promise you made to Katya. It is better to be feared than loved. Isn’t that what you keep telling me?”
“Don’t worry—no human will ever love us.” Isabella answered.
“So you want to fight a war?”
“I want food. I am hungry and so are you.”
“When do you want to leave?”
Isabella smiled. He was going to go with her. “I must go down and see Katya’s daughter first before we leave. I will go tonight and then we can leave tomorrow.”
When Isabella arrived down in the village she went straight to Katya’s old cottage.
“It has been a long time,” Katya’s child, Isabella’s namesake, began.
“It has,” Isabella responded.
“Why have you chosen tonight to visit me?”
“I have come to tell you that I am leaving. I will not be back for a while.” As Isabella spoke a girl entered the house. Her face was bruised and she was trying to hide it. The human Isabella looked at the girl with pity and turned back to the Vampire.
“I am glad you came to see me. I wanted to ask you a favour. That girl is my granddaughter.”
“What’s wrong with her face?” Isabella asked.
“Her husband beats her.”
“What has this got to do with me?”
“You promised my mother you would protect our family. I want you to use…gentle persuasion to make sure he does not beat her anymore.”
“Why doesn’t she just leave him?”
“She loves him.”
“She’s a fool; I cannot help people who won’t help themselves.”
“Is she a fool? My mother told me stories of a woman, a girl who lives with someone who tried to kill her.” Katya’s daughter was so like her mother. Isabella couldn’t help liking her. The Vampire would comply with her namesake’s wishes and use gentle persuasion, as she put it, to stop the young girl’s husband from beating her to death some day.
Isabella sighed and began to speak again, “Tell your granddaughter not to go home tonight. I will go and wait for her husband.”
“Thank you…and Isabella…don‘t kill him,” the young Isabella shouted after the Vampire.
Isabella looked back at her, smiled wryly, and nodded.
“He’ll live,” she replied.
Katya’s daughter coughed. The Vampire knew that her friend’s daughter was nearing the end of her life.
Isabella sat in the dark waiting for the girl’s abusive husband to come home. When he eventually entered the house, he reeked of wine. On seeing Isabella, he started to shout at her.
“Where is my wife?” he barked.
“She’s not here,” answered Isabella.
“I can see that!” he shouted back. Isabella stood. The husband staggered over to where she was standing. “What have you done with my wife?”
“Do you care?” At this the man lashed out at Isabella. His blow knocked Isabella off balance and she fell to the floor. Before she could get up the man struck out again with his foot. The side of his shoe caught her cheek and split it open. He kicked out again but this time Isabella caught his foot in her hand and squeezed hard, breaking his bones in several places. He screamed out in pain and stumbled back away from Isabella.
Isabella looked up at the husband of Katya’s grandchild and he began to fear for his life when his eyes met hers. He fell back into the corner of the room. It was as if Isabella’s stare had thrust him backwards. She lifted her hand and rubbed her fingers against her cheek, wiping off the blood to reveal a completely healed wound. He ran for the door, his fear overcoming his pain. Isabella got to the door before he did and slammed it shut. The man, now terrified, backed again into the corner of the room. Isabella pushed him back further so that he was pinned up against the wall.
“You would hit a woman…?” Isabella asked; her voice full of disdain. The abusive husband said nothing. “Always be careful when you do; some woman hit back,” Isabella continued.
At this she grabbed him round his neck and lifted him off the ground. The man now gasped for air and struggled to get his words out.
“Who are you?” he whispered.
“I am…a dark angel. More importantly I am your wife’s guardian angel. If you are not the epitome of kindness towards her from now on I will come back and rip the flesh from your throat.” Isabella pressed her finger nails into his neck, and a few drops of blood started to spill onto her fingers. “Be warned I only make a threat once,” Isabella said, and then she let go and he dropped to the ground. He curled his body up into a ball and lay there not moving…too scared to move. Isabella leaned down and with her finger nail slashed his cheek exactly where he had wounded her.
“Just a scar so that you never forget my warning,” Isabella stated.
This man never hit his wife again. In fact, he turned into a kind husband that his wife could love without reproach.
Isabella returned to the castle and when she entered a man was sitting with Vlad. Isabella was horrified when she realised it was Vincente.
Vlad could see that Isabella was extremely agitated at Vincente being there and he knew why. Vlad walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.
“My love…we have a guest,” Vlad said sarcastically.
“I can see we have a guest,” Isabella reaffirmed.
“Say hello to our guest. You are being quite vulgar. It must be your upbringing.” Isabella threw Vlad a supercilious look. She had become as much of a snob as Vlad was and had put her underprivileged childhood behind her. Vlad liked to remind her of it every chance he got. He knew how to antagonise her just as she knew how to antagonise him.
Isabella by now had regained her senses and went over to their guest. Vincente, being totally ignorant of the danger he was in, took Isabella’s hand and kissed it. Dracula did not outwardly show any reaction but Vincente had just signed his own death warrant, simply by having the audacity to touch Isabella in his presence.
“Hello, Vincente,” she said, her words stilted and sharp.
“That’s more like it, Isabella. This man has travelled from Italy to visit you; you should show him some courtesy. He must hold you in great admiration to travel such a distance just to see you.” Isabella now knew that Vincente was dead. She would try to protect him, but he had killed himself by coming here. “I have invited him to come with us,” Vlad continued.
“I am sure he has better things to do than come with us,” Isabella answered.
“Yes, he may. He has brought paintings with him; they are mostly of you, Isabella,” Vlad said. “Isabella, do you know what else he is? He is one of us. I wonder how he became a Vampire.” Vlad left the pair in the room after this remark, but he would never actually leave them completely alone.
Isabella’s heart fell. How could Vincente have been so stupid, she wondered? As soon as Vlad left the room Vincente ran to Isabella to embrace her. Isabella stepped back from him. She would not let him touch her.
“Don’t touch me. Do not show me any affection. Don’t you realise what you have done…you have just killed yourself!” Isabella said.
“But you told me I couldn‘t die.”
“There is a way we can die, we just do not know how yet. But I guarantee Vlad will figure out the way and I will not be able help you.”
“You are overreacting Isabella; he could not have been more pleasant towards me.”
“He is furious. I told him you were dead.”
“He is no match for us Isabella. We can kill him.”
“Do not say such things—you are a fool. Don’t you realise I would never kill him? What makes you think I would join with you against him?” answered Isabella. “Your mother would have never been this stupid,”
“My mother—what do you know about my mother?” Vincente asked.
“Never mind.”
“You knew my mother?” Vincente asked again.
“Yes, but that doesn’t matter now. I need to think what to do. You‘ll have to leave, but not yet. If you leave now he will only follow you.”
Vincente did not believe Isabella’s words. He thought she was overreacting. He did not know that she meant everything she said.
Isabella would always love Vlad, even when she tried to convince herself that she did not. She would never conspire against him with anyone. Isabella had liked Vincente, but she did not and would not ever love him. If it had been anyone else she would have just let Vlad kill him, but she could not let Lia’s child die. So she would try to save him, but she felt it would be impossible. Isabella fell asleep contemplating what to do.
The following evening, the three of them left the castle together. The three Vampires set off on their journey. Isabella was filled with a sense of foreboding. She had lost all the affection she had once had for Vincente. She could not tolerate fools and that was what she thought he was. Any affection she had felt for him was just merely a short and slight infatuation. She had longed for company when she met him. Even though this was true, she knew she owed it to his mother to keep him safe and she would protect him as much as she could.
They arrived on the battlefield late in the evening; the three were ravenous and were not picky about whose soldiers they were killing. There was a camp set up near the battlefield where the soldiers were to fight the following morning. Isabella, Vlad and Vincente went through their tents until their hunger was satisfied. The next day when the remaining soldiers awakened they blamed influenza for the deaths that had occurred during the night. There had been a small outbreak recently of the virus and they had no reason to suspect foul play, yet. So the three remained until the battle started. They killed dozens of soldiers that day. Isabella was trying to keep a close eye on Vincente but the brightness of the day was obscuring her vision. Her hunger by this time had taken over and she was feeding, forgetting about him for the moment.
This went on for weeks and the soldiers from the camp believed that they would have to return home because the influenza outbreak was getting so bad. But they were going to make one final stand. This was the night Vincente was to die.
When Isabella awoke that evening she had decided to finally confront Vlad about Vincente. She was going to tell him about her obligation to Vincente’s mother and that this was the only reason she wanted him to live. She would not go as far as begging Vlad, but she would tell him the truth in the hope that it would save Vincente from Vlad‘s wrath.
The three had been resting in one of the abandoned tents of the people they had killed. Vlad had already left his resting place and was standing on the edge of the forest. Isabella approached cautiously.
“Why are you standing here on your own?” Isabella began.
“I thought you would want this time to spend with Vincente,” said Vlad.
“I am sorry he came here. I didn’t want him to,” Isabella answered.
“I’m glad he did. It reminded me that we are not under any obligation to each other.”
“I feel I have an obligation to you,” Isabella answered. There was a gentle sincerity in her voice that Vlad had never heard before.
“You shouldn’t.”
Isabella sighed. “Let me explain. I knew his mother. I promised her when she died that I would protect him, and when I went back to Italy he was being burned alive. I had to save him, I owed his mother that much!”
“That is no concern of mine,” Vlad said harshly.
“This woman, I thought of her as a sister. I cannot stand idly by and let you kill her child. Do you understand nothing of family loyalty? How could you? A man who left his brother to be tortured and sodomized by the Turks.”