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“Yes.” Ágota tightens her hold on me, her fingers pressing hard into my skin. “And I beg for your mercy.”
The woman wipes her red lips with her gloved hand. I shiver, realizing they were so vibrantly red in color from the blood coating them. My mother told me about the vampires who lurk in darkness and feast off humans. I stare in terror at the woman before us. I do not want her sharp teeth to rend my throat.
“I am well fed. I have no need for your blood or your sister’s.”
Ágota remains quiet, clearly uncertain of a proper response to this declaration.
“You have passed from the domain of The White Woman of the Wood into lands I protect.”
“I ask for safe passage through your territory.”
“In exchange for what?”
Ágota fumbles with the bag. “I have a ring with a ruby.”
“I have many rubies and many rings.” The woman laughs with delight. “But how charming of you to offer. Join me where I am currently residing and we shall discuss this further.”
My sister’s body tenses.
The woman’s eyes narrow. “If you come with me, you will be safe beneath the roof of my haven. No one shall touch you. You may eat and rest while we decide what your payment will be for your continued safety in this land. I swear it on my blood. And if you are truly a witch, you know that is a vow I cannot break.”
Swallowing hard, my sister nods. “I accept.”
“Good.” The woman makes a great show of wiping down her sword before sheathing it. “You may call me Lady Dominique. I am currently staying with Count Dolingen of Gratz at his nearby castle. Those men –” she points dismissively at the corpses “–were on their way to kill him. Obviously, I could not allow them to hurt my host. Besides, they were quite delicious.”
“You did not kill the horses,” I say gratefully.
Lady Dominique smirks. “Once they are rounded up, they will be a nice addition to my host’s stable. I am not one to squander assets.” With terrifying swiftness, she grabs Ágota by the arms. “As you will see.”
The ground falls away as we are lifted high into the sky.
Chapter 7
As I languish on this bier, I cannot help but dwell upon my sister’s prophecy. The portent had been lost in memory until last night. Recalling Ágota’s proclamation coaxes a bitter laugh from my dry lips. The crimson and gold dress she saw in her prophetic vision is frayed beneath my fingers. The gold and ruby necklace is a heavy shackle about my throat. If only she’d seen beyond the regalia of my mortal life maybe I could have avoided this fate. Perhaps she would have been saved from her own. That was always the curse of her power. Ágota could only witness glimpses of the future and often struggled to discern the meaning of what she observed. What good is a power that cannot save the ones you love?
The mausoleum smells of rotten meat while the air is stagnant and heavy with moisture. I am frail in my opulent gown and have not the strength to move. How long will it be before I feed again? How long before I am visited by my husband? Will he come to taunt me, or bring me a victim to feast upon? I am at the mercy of his whims.
Should the visions come again, I will eagerly welcome them. Even though the pleasure of beholding the faces of my loved ones will be transmuted into pain once my mind returns to this damp mausoleum, I desire refuge from this hell. I am crushed beneath my loneliness. The absence of my loved ones becomes a sharp blade through my heart.
My mother, Ágota, and now Dominique.
Oh, how I miss Dominique...
Gazing upon her face once again, even if only in a remembrance, has renewed my longing for her companionship. To be separated from my dearest friend matches the agony of the stake. Ironic, since at our first meeting I was terrified of her. With good reason, of course. Dominique was a fearsome vampire.
I was convinced she intended to do us harm when she absconded with us that night, regardless of her promise to Ágota. Upon reflection, I wonder if my fears were an omen, for it was Dominique’s hand which set me upon a course in life that would eventually result in my present imprisonment. My anger does not stir against her despite this truth. How could she have known her actions would usher me to Death’s door and beyond?
Oh, bliss! I feel the strings of whatever curse has been laid upon me drawing me deep into my memories. I will not struggle. Tonight I wish to abandon the mausoleum and find refuge in the past. I long to stare upon Dominique’s face and hear her voice. Even if it means I must also see him...
The pull intensifies as I close my eyes against the gloom of the mausoleum. What follows is the sensation of being untethered from my flesh and slipping free from earthly bonds.
The agony of my captivity vanishes.
A moment later, my eyes open to a wide expanse of the heavens and a pale moon. I am a mortal girl, small and inconsequential. I stare with fright at the treetops below us. Buffeted by the cold night air, I am half frozen in my cloak and certain my demise is close at hand.
Pain returns with startling power, causing me to cry out. But it is not the familiar sting of the stake skewering my chest, but waves of agony radiating from my shoulder to my wrist. Dangling from the vampire’s grip, I do not dare struggle despite the crushing power of her hand nearly wrenching my arm from its socket.
My sister does not resist our captor but floats alongside the vampire. I have faith in Ágota, but I worry about how compliant she appears. Does she have a plan? Or is she intimidated by the vampire’s power? I wish I could speak to her about our predicament and know her thoughts. Instead, I endure our passage through the night skies in silence.
