Beyond Death By Jinger Jackson
For all the Bats I know. May your poopy glass never empty, your pitt always be slimy, ...
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Beyond Death By Jinger Jackson
For all the Bats I know. May your poopy glass never empty, your pitt always be slimy, and your cave remain dark and damp. Also, a special claw lifted for the Belfrities— y'all are the best.
Part One An obsession that spans time…
Chapter One
Wallachia Spring, 1456 Marinska Ionescu reined her mare to a stop on the lush green grass of the creek’s edge. The water babbled softly as it flowed along the branch to the Arges River. She slid off Dragomir and let the leather leads fall loosely to the ground. Slipping off her soft beige kidskin slippers, she wriggled her toes in the soft greenery. The moss was springy under her steps and when she walked in an inch, the cool water rippled gently across her bare feet. A presence cast a shadow on the bank across the stream. Goose flesh skittered up her arms. “Should you be alone like this, Mistress? There is much trouble in the land. A criminal could be lurking anywhere. Behind any tree could be a man who wouldn’t think twice at…” he let his thought trail off momentarily. “…at taking advantage of such a sweet girl as yourself.” The timbre in the voice was like being caressed by velvet. She turned to face the man, but wasn’t ready for what she saw. He stood a full head taller than she. The top of her head would only have reached his chin had they been standing closer. His deep eyes were almost black obsidian. Rich brown hair fell to his shoulders and a start of a moustache grew over his lips. He stood with confidence, and strength hung around him like a cloak. And he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. “Mistress?” Marinska was mortified, realizing she had been staring at him. She cleared her throat and swallowed hard. “I have nothing to fear here, Sir. There is no one about.” He moved closer to her. “I am.” The glint in his eye was more mischievous than threatening.
Should she be frightened? She wasn’t. She stiffened her spine and looked up to stare him in the eyes. “I have reason to fear you?” A smile crossed his lips. “None. Your name?” “Marinska Ionescu.” He took her hand, bowed low over it, and turned the palm to face him. His moustache tickled as he pressed a kiss to her hand. “I am Vlad III, Dracula, son of Dracul, Prince of Wallachia.” Her stomach twisted into knots. There had been rumors of the man’s release from captivity and his taking of the throne. He would soon be Voivode. However, the curious sensation building inside her had nothing to do with his rank. It was his presence that made her feel as if she had finally found what she was looking for. How could that be possible? She had never even been aware she was searching. “I shall escort you home.” His tone brooked no argument, had she even been tempted to offer one. She was unable to move. He made her feel weak, yet secure with his nearness. Her confidence faltered slightly when he tugged her toward the horses. His horse was as dark as its master. The large mount was solid black and the hair above his hooves was thick, wavy, and feathered. Marinska followed Vlad and waited while he collected her mare. He then helped her into the saddle. His touch sent a scorching heat that zinged its way through her body. She swallowed hard and looked down at him. “Thank you.” Her words were so hushed, Vlad wasn’t sure she’d actually spoken. He was, in fact, still reeling from the sensations attacking him. The smell of her, the feel of her in his arms. He’d desired women before, but none like this one. One look into her light green eyes told him she was an innocent, and he had to fight the urge to toss her to the ground and drive himself into her. How would it feel to tangle his fingers in her silky dark blond hair? What would she sound like in the throes of ecstasy? He jerked away. He had no right to think such things.
Taking up the reins to his stallion, the leather saddle creaked as he climbed into position. He pressed back into the cantle as far as possible, for the pommel would make his already painful erection ache more. He roughly cleared his throat and the sound seemed to echo in the stillness. “Where is your home, Mistress Ionescu?” He smothered a smile when she tried to hide her light trembling. “Over the next rise, Sire.” At that he did smile. “I am not on the throne yet, dear lady.” “You will be.” There was no doubt in her words. A wave of confidence washed over him. “Indeed?” “I know it.”
Chapter Two
Wallachia Spring, 1457 Marinska shivered in the small apartment given for her dressing room. Soon, she would be before the priest exchanging vows with her Vlad. Her Prince, her love, her lifemate. She was a lucky one indeed. Most in their world married whomever they were matched to. She was marrying for love. She sighed and smoothed her hand down the front of the green gown. A waiting woman stepped behind her to fasten her necklace, a gift from Vlad, around her neck. After it was in place, Marinska touched at the wisps of hair that had been carefully twisted into ringlets around her face. It was almost time. She inhaled a steadying breath and walked through the wooden door into the cold stone corridor. She wasn’t sure what made her more nervous, the idea of marrying the Prince, living as a reigning monarch, or what was in store for her in the marriage bed. No one knew she’d listened in on conversations between the serving girls and the housecarls. There were maids who giggled when they described the part of the man that offered such pleasure. From the descriptions, Marinska had a hard time believing that anything that sounded so horrible would make a maid sigh in pleasure. The grunting of rutting couples had been heard deep in the night at her family home. At first, Marinska had been convinced someone was killing her personal handmade, Ilinka. The girl’s barely stifled cries had sounded as one in agonizing pain rather than the sheer pleasure that was claimed. Just this afternoon, the facts of coupling had finally been explained to Marinska. Being told that there would be pain didn’t help ease her nerves.
“He will become hard like a rod. Then he will part your legs and plunge his staff deep inside you. There will be a fire of pain, like you’re being split open. That will quickly cease and all you will know is pleasure. If he knows what he is doing, that is,” Ilinka added with a sly grin. Marinska stood at the doorway and tried to bury the images of what was to come from her mind. Then she saw Vlad waiting for her, and everything else fell away. The door opened and Vlad’s mouth went dry. Marinska stood before him dressed in a gown of green, the shade almost matching her eyes. Around her neck, she wore the emerald and diamond necklace he had commissioned for her. The matching earbobs sparkled through the hair that curled around her face. The priest spoke the words of greeting, but Vlad barely heeded them. Then he heard the celebrant say, “I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow are not joined together by God; neither is their Matrimony lawful. “At which day of Marriage, if any man do allege and declare any impediment, why they may not be coupled together in Matrimony, by God's Law, or the Laws of this Realm; and will be bound, and sufficient sureties with him, to the parties; or else put in a Caution to prove his allegation: then the solemnization must be deferred, until such time as the truth be tried.” The gathered throng was silent. There was no just cause for a word to be spoken against their union. Marinska was innocent and untainted of heart. And as Voivode, no one had the right to detract Vlad’s reputation. Besides, Vlad’s love was as true for Marinska as her heart was pure. He took her right hand in his “I Vlad take thee Marinska to my wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.” They released hands only momentarily before she took his right hand in hers. “I Marinska take thee Vlad to my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”
The priest sanctified the ring. Embossed in the gold was the Dracul crest, a dragon with his tail encircled round his throat. Fire sprayed from the beast’s mouth. Above the dragon was a cross. “With this ring, I thee wed. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” Vlad slipped it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. They knelt before the cleric. He spoke the words of prayer over them, then bid them rise. He placed Marinska’s hand in Vlad’s. The cleric turned to the gathered crowd. “Forasmuch as His Royal majesty Prince Vlad Dracula and Marinska Ionescu have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company…” the words droned on, but Vlad heard little else. When the service finally ended, Vlad wasted no time in shuttling her off. Tradition dictated they were to have a meal with the guests. A meal that would last the night and well into the next. To hell with tradition! Her face was a mask of shock when he half-carried her from the chapel and down the private passage to their apartments. He pushed open the door to their bedchamber, scooped her up in his arms, and went in, kicking the door closed behind them. In three strides, he was at the bed. She slid down his body and stood before him, trembling. He pulled her close in his arms, feathering kisses into her hair. “You need never fear me, Beloved. I vow that you will never come to harm, not by my hand, or any other.” She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. He placed his finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. With his thumb, he traced the planes of her cheeks and then outlined her lips. Lowering his face to hers, he kissed her. Her breath quickened and he gently prodded her mouth open with his tongue. Her mouth was so warm, so welcoming. His blood heated and he trailed his hand down her chest. The material of the dress was a barrier that would soon have to be overcome. He pulled back and looked into her eyes while he grabbed the neck of the gown. “I do not want to frighten you, but I cannot fully enjoy your body, nor you mine, with this dress between us.” He kept his gaze locked with hers while he ripped the satin open. Her nipples perked in the chill of the room. Dropping his face to her chest, he took the nub and began to suckle on it.
She moaned and sagged into his body. The unconscious action fueled his need. He spun on his heel and, with her still clutched to him, dropped backward onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. He carefully rolled her underneath his body. His hand roamed freely over her, ripping and pulling at every scrap of cloth that prevented the feel of her soft skin under his hand. He released her and once again looked down into her eyes. “Now I will undress.” He stood and undid the stays of his hose and tugged them off his legs. Her eyes widened in surprise and then shut tightly when he pulled off his tunic. “Marinska.” She cracked her eyelids open. Her cheeks flamed red and she forced her gaze to lock with his. “Never close your eyes. There is no shame in our bodies. We have been blessed by the Holy Church as man and wife.” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. When he had completely stripped, he moved back to the bed. He took his time touching every inch of her body, then used gentle force to open her legs to him. She looked delicious and moist. She would taste as sweet as honey; he had no doubt of it. His devilish side made the urge to kiss her there irresistible. He kissed her flat stomach and worked his way lower, his fingers sliding between her folds while he trailed down to her center. Marinska moaned and lifted her hips to draw him in. He moistened his finger with her juices and slid it in. Her opening was tight. She gave a slight buck when he pumped his finger into her. Vlad glanced at Marinska. Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. A soft moan echoed in his mind. He dipped his tongue into the opening. Her body jerked and once more her hips thrust up. He didn’t wait for a second invitation. He found her nub and suckled on it while gently sliding his finger in and out of her soft core. Carefully, he allowed a second finger to slip into her body. She flooded his mouth and he sucked at the sweat nectar. She was more intoxicating than any wine ever created. Sweeter than he had even dared imagine. His need grew and he would soon burst if he didn’t fill her, now. He pulled back and rose above her. “I cannot wait any longer, Beloved.” Pressing his lips to hers, he positioned himself between her legs. He had meant to be gentle, but his lust was too strong.
Marinska couldn’t believe the sensations Vlad evoked in her. The feel of his tongue as he licked her down there was so wonderful it had to be a sin. When he put his fingers inside her, his touch made her jerk in place. He had been breathless when admitting his urgent need. His fingers pulled from her core and a cold emptiness descended. But that was quickly warmed when he put his body between her legs. She felt the tip of staff and his hand touch her. Surely there was no way she could stretch enough to accommodate him. He shoved into her and the pain made her cry out, but he didn’t stop. The tearing sensation brought tears to her eyes. It hurt terribly as he plunged in and out of her body. Deeper and harder he continued to thrust. She kept waiting for the pleasure that would chase away the agony, but it didn’t come. What was worse, Vlad seemed to be spurred on by her tears, by her whimpered cries. The pain finally eased just as he slammed his way into her so deep, she was sure he would emerge from her mouth. His body shivered erratically and she trembled with him. He shuddered three times and collapsed on top of her. The hurt had become but a wisp of memory and she felt cheated. Like she’d missed something, but didn’t know what it was. Vlad kissed her deeply. “I’m sorry Beloved. I should have waited. Now you.” He moved and his hand replaced his body. He stroked a sensitive spot at her center and the first ripple went through her. He fondled and played, plunged and teased, until she felt as if she’d explode. “Oh Vlad. Vlad,” she cried when the tidal wave flooded her and released all the tension pent inside. He cuddled her close as she slept beside him. He had ridden her harder than he intended. She had never been touched and he knew it had caused her pain. Yet, the knowledge of that pain thrilled some miniscule place in him. Never again. He would have to be more careful in the future. He snuggled into her warmth and prayed he’d be strong enough to keep his vow.
He woke to the feeling of soft fingers on his skin. She traced the outline of one of the many scars dotted along his flesh. If anyone else touched him in such a way, he’d tear their arms from their body. But with her tender touch, the tortured nightmare he’d lived through was eased. She soothed him. She caressed him. She loved him and his heart felt so full that it would surely explode and he’d die of pure joy. “While I would love to lie with you here all day, Beloved, we need food.” A wicked smile danced on her lips. “Must we leave so soon?” He pressed her into the mattress and kissed her with hungry fury. “We need not ever leave.”
Chapter Three
Wallachia Spring, 1462 Marinska lay in her bed. The darkened chamber did nothing to help her rolling emotions. The screams from the prisons below had finally stopped, but their remnants still echoed in her head. The sickness had taken over her husband again. And the people had taken to calling him Son of the Devil. But they could not see the things she’d seen in him. Despite the horrors he had suffered when the enemy imprisoned him, he managed to smile for her. At times, he seemed almost carefree. That was until the memory of the gruesome deaths of his father and brother would return. Then he became distant and sullen. When he remembered his imprisonment, he became volatile. Her husband never told her all the details of his captivity by the Turks, but she had seen the scars on his body from their abuse. Surely they had planted the seeds of the demon inside him. She had seen him strike servants with solid wooden staffs for any slight, real or imagined. His violence frightened her. She never feared for herself; he would never harm her. But the same could not be said of anyone else who happened to be near him in those moments. There were other consequences of his captivity. Complete darkness was more that he could stand. A lit candle always remained on the table near the bed. Rushes burned in posts all along the castle walls. It had taken her a while to accept that he was afraid of the dark. He had almost been ashamed of his fear. He didn’t think she would understand and it had taken her a little time to prove to him it didn’t make him appear weak.
He also had all the rooms in their home built overly large due to his uncontrollable terror of confined spaces. Anytime he felt confined, his breathing became erratic. A vein in his neck pounded with each beat of his heart. He would perspire and his body shook violently. Vlad hadn’t always been considered a cruel man. His heart was always with his nation. When he first took the throne, the country was divided into Wallachia, Moldavia, and Transylvania. The Turks had done their level best to destroy their people. Shortly after their marriage, Vlad led the charge against the Turks. With his triumph, the three provinces were united under him and Romania was born. He was a Christian man who despised anything Turkish and would fight hell to prevent Muslim-faithed Ottomans from infiltrating his land. He imposed order. Merchants no longer swindled their customers. The people had felt the end of theft and even the impact on infidelity. He built monasteries and prayed God would provide him with guidance so he could lead his people properly. That was the truth despite what the Boyars wanted to say. He began with good intentions, punishing the ones who were actually guilty—but when the illness over took him, everything was different. He craved pain, blood, and screams. Now it seemed the madness was beginning to overtake him completely. How much longer could she endure the pitiful cries? How many more times could she look into her husband’s wild eyes and hold him until the fiend of sickness finally released him? When would the day that she could no longer comfort him arrive? Vlad entered the apartment. She listened quietly as he undressed and performed his nightly toilette. Soon, the mattress shifted with his weight. She rolled over and pressed against his body, caressing his forehead lightly with her fingertips. His face was a mask of confusion and sadness. “It has happened again.” His voice was filled with shame and regret. “They refused to obey. They have betrayed me.” She could feel the pounding of his heart against her palm. She continued to stroke his forehead with a gentle touch. “Quiet, my husband.” “How can I be quiet? I know there are ones who plot against me. There are ones who will see you destroyed as easily as they would destroy me.” He jerked from her touch and leapt from the bed. “Even now they conspire with the Turks to over throw me and destroy all we have accomplished,” he raged. “Please Vlad, my love, come back to bed.”
“Not until you are safe from this treachery. I will protect you my love. I will see this threat defeated and our enemies trampled down. We will know peace, Beloved. Peace and respect.” Anger flushed his face and his body was stiff as he pulled on his robes. Then the door flew open and he disappeared down the hallway. It would happen again. His rage fueled the devil inside, causing it to build stronger and fiercer. What atrocities would he wreak this time? The once beautiful grounds had become littered with the bodies he had impaled in his rage. Within minutes of her husband’s departure, the cries of the tortured filled Poenari castle. She lifted her pillow and buried her head beneath it, trying to block out the screams of agony that echoed off the stone walls. Her heart ached with every lash, every shriek of pain. There were people who whispered their displeasure and disgust of their Prince, but none were so bold as to utter a word within his hearing. None save the Boyars. Marinska had never known real hatred against anyone. Not until she met those highranking officials, the Boyars. They had tried to sway her from Vlad. Had tried to convince her that he should be overthrown. But they were as evil as the beast now living inside her husband. Their false civility didn’t fool her. Vlad was right in his distrust of the ones who were responsible for his father’s death. They were also responsible for the death of his older brother, Mircea. The Boyars dare whisper against Vlad’s cruelties when they were as violent? They had burned Mircea’s eyes out with a branding iron and then buried the poor man alive. She shivered. Would they have the courage to strike at her for her defense of Vlad? She pushed the thought away. Her husband’s status would protect her. The cost of the reputation had been high. Much too high. The blood, the death, the destruction Vlad inflicted when the evil spirit possessed him earned her safety and the terrifying control he held over their world. The tortured screams were almost enough to drive her as mad as he was. She loved him with all her heart. But the glimpses of goodness were becoming less frequent and she felt as if her mind would soon snap. She rose from the bed and began to pace the floor. They had been so happy once. He held her in the night, keeping her warm. His touches stoked fires in her body. He was a generous lover
and a protective husband. Only a child could have made their happiness complete. She had prayed for a child to love. A child that would sooth Vlad’s troubled spirit. She could feel the baby in her arms. Could hear its giggling coos. See the smile on Vlad’s face. If only she had been able to give him a son. The cold stone chilling her bare feet pulled Marinska from her reverie. The screams of torment had become faint, but she still heard them. She continued to pace, each step carrying her closer to the beautiful stone balcony Vlad had commissioned just for her pleasure. Where had that man gone? The man who loved her more than life itself. The man who treated her with gentle kindness. “Oh my husband,” her sobbing whisper was barely audible over the sounds of the night. “How I wish I could free you, free us, of this beast that has devoured your soul.” She stepped onto the edge and stared down at the Arges River below. The peace it offered. How she needed that serenity. “God help me,” she prayed quietly. “Release me of this despair. I cannot stop it. I cannot save them. Not even him who means life to me.” The soft sound of angels rose from the valley. They beckoned to her. “Come ye and rest here,” they called. How could she refuse? The sound of the door opening couldn’t break her from the trance the dark swirling waters induced. Escape was promised in the distant cascading sounds of liquid rushing over the rocks. One more step and she would know the misery of lunacy no longer. “Marinska! Beloved!” Vlad exclaimed. “What are you doing?” His frenzied steps echoed in her ears as he rushed toward her. “I can bear no more,” she whispered. She placed one foot out, letting it hover in the air. “I will love you beyond death, but this pain is just too great.” His hand brushed her skin, but his grip wasn’t able to hold her back as she stepped into the darkness. “I will love you beyond death,” he shouted. As she plummeted, those last words, carried on the wind, wrapped around her heart. The pain of the impact only lasted a moment before she was swallowed in tranquil oblivion. Vlad stood looking over the edge as Marinska disappeared under the waters. “No! “Marinska!”
Ache filled his every fiber. She had gone. Left him alone. He crumbled on the stone floor and tears of pain burned down his cheeks. How could he go on in life without her? Shards of agony tore into his soul, stealing the breath from his body. He couldn’t find the strength to rise. She was gone. His shattered heart slowly hardened and rage raced through his body. A red haze gathered before his eyes. Fury burned white hot. It was their fault. All those who plotted against him. The Boyars, the Turks, the malcontents. They would all pay for what they’d cost him. He went back down into the lower chambers of the castle. “Take them all,” he roared at his guards. “Take them all now.” The traitors in the cells cried and pleaded for mercy. How could he show them mercy now? They had taken the one good and beautiful thing in his life from him. The one reason for his existence. His torment would be theirs. “They will be taken to the stakes and feel the punishment for their crimes.” He followed in the wake of the crying conspirators. The spikes were sharpened only slightly then the prisoners were hoisted above them. He watched as the bodies were placed on top of the stakes, then he had the ropes tied to their ankles and the other end attached to horses. The screams of agony filled the night as the prisoners were pulled down onto the pikes. Some were impaled through their anus and the pike emerged from their mouths. Some were not split as easily. A prisoner, Virgiliu Danesi, broke from the chains and ran across the grounds to the castle walls. Virgiliu was a relative and rival for the throne. A conspirator. A traitor. A murderer. Vlad grabbed the man and twisted the cord of a rope around his neck. He was careful not to choke the turncoat. It would not do for the man to die that easily. Vlad had ropes bind Virgiliu’s hands at the wrist and a second one fastened at his ankles. A larger rope was tied around his waist and Vlad watched as his enemy rose in the air. With guide leads Vlad positioned Virgiliu’s body above the point of the pike. Carefully the body was lowered onto the wooden point. Virgiliu was bent almost double. “Now!” Vlad ordered. Virgiliu was impaled through his stomach. Blood poured from the wound and screams echoed in the courtyard.
Laughter bubbled from Vlad’s lips. “You will suffer for your sins. You have betrayed me and now you will pay. You will not die quickly, my enemies. You will know the same torture you brought me.” He stood and watched the bodies twitch. It would take hours for some of them to die. They looked like Satan’s puppets impaled on the lances. Wood protruded from their abdomens, from their heads, from their chests. It was a macabre scene that only served to feed the need for blood welling inside him. He needed the screams. He had to hear them. He had to feel their suffering as real as his own. The guards gasped in shock but they were wise enough to hold their tongues. He stormed over the ramparts and looked down at the pathetic mass who had gathered to wail and cry out for their loved ones who were hanging to die. “Silence,” he roared. “You have no right. Silence immediately.” The crowd quieted slightly. “Princess Marinska has been taken in death,” he shouted. The air was suddenly filled with silence. It was almost as if the entire of the world hung frozen at the sad news. “The ones who killed her will be made to suffer.” His head pounded and darkness gathered around the edges of his vision. Turning away from the crowd, Vlad swept back into the castle and headed for the inner sanctum of his chapel. It was here that Marinska had pledged her undying love. Even had the Holy Church not consecrated them, Vlad would have called Marinska his wife. He was a God fearing man, but God himself would never have kept him from her. His legs buckled and he sagged onto the floor. “My God, Marinska, how will I survive without you?” he screamed. Tears fell freely and anguish cut through him again. “Please help me. I need you to save me.” He waited in silence, praying to hear her soft voice offering him the comfort he needed. The animal inside was growing stronger with each passing second. Soon he would lose control completely. Marinska had been so gentle. So strong. So safe. His gut twisted and he bellowed a harsh wordless sound. Pain and anger warred inside his body, the fury slowly taking over. He turned to leave the chapel, wrath placing a cruel smile on his lips. He went to his scrivener and banged on the door.
There was a shuffling sound before the door creaked open and the old man peaked around it. When the man saw his master standing there, the wooden barrier opened wider and the scribe stepped back, then bowed as low as his old body allowed. The man trembled and he was watching Vlad in cautious apprehension. “Sire?” “Write a missive. I invite all the poor, all the hungry to a feast. I want all those who are infirmed due to disease or physical deformations to come. Invite all my Boyars to join so that they can see I will provide for all my subjects. I will release the hunger of the poor. They are to come tomorrow evening.” The scribe looked at him in wonder. “Sire?” the man said again. “Have you lost your hearing old man?” he shouted and raised his fists. “I order you to write the missive. My Marinska does not like to think of any suffering. For her memory I will help those pathetic creatures.” The man looked confused. “As you command.” He grabbed a paper, his quill, and began writing out the invitation. Vlad turned and slammed the door. His footfalls were heavy and had there not been screaming in the courtyard, he’d have heard them echo off the walls. Once more in his bedchamber, he lit the lamp, walked to the side table and lifted a wooden box. He kept a lock of her hair in the small ornate wooden chest. She once gave it to him to carry when he went into battle. Each time she would press it to her lips a symbol of her kisses while he rode into the fray. He clutched it tight in his hand, kissed it and replaced it in the box. Ache shredded him. His heart shriveled. “Marinska!” His scream echoed off the walls and down into the valley that took her life. She will be honored. In the morning, he would visit the kitchens and oversee the menu. He stared down at the bed. The emptiness there matched the emptiness in his heart. He sank into a chair and stared at the bed for the remainder of the night. When the sun rose, he still sat there, alone in his despair. **** The smells wafting through the wooden doors tantalized him. The cooks had prepared fowl, beef, and lamb. A feast fit for a king. He chuckled at the thought.
He stepped into the large room that would serve as the dining hall. The trenchers were filled with fresh fruits and vegetables. Already the sound of people clamoring outside the courtyard reached his ears. “Let them in,” he shouted to the guards. People flooded in, calling out their gratitude and he could see their mouths watering for the delicious feast that had been promised. “Enjoy my people. This is in honor of my beloved Marinska. She loved our country, our people, and would see all treated fair and just. The misery and pain of others brought her the same. She has gone from this world but she would want to know that you hunger no longer.” He turned to his Boyars. “She would want to see us end our animosity and work together for the good of our people. Eat, drink and be merry.” The food was brought in and placed on the tables. Greedy grimy hands lashed out and grabbed up as much as they could hold. “Would you like to be without cares, lacking for nothing?” he called out to the crowd. A resounding “yes” filled the air. Vlad nodded and turned to leave the people to their feast. At every exit he placed wooden bars on the doors. He coated the wood with oil then took a lit torch and placed it against the doors. As the flames licked upward, smoke filled the great room. People abandoned their feast, begged and screamed for release. “No longer will you suffer from the pangs of hunger,” his wild laughter filled the air. “Marinska, my lovely wife, be secure in the knowledge our people are not starving. They have been saved from it all.” He walked out into the gardens among Marinska’s flowers. She tended to them personally. He had offered her servants, but she always refused. “It soothes me. It pleases me to work in the flowers,” she replied in her soft, gentle manner. He reached down, plucked several flowers in a variety of colors, and then returned to the castle. He sniffed the fragrances the blooms offered. Acrid smoke filled the sky, the scent of burning flesh pervaded the entire castle, but all he could smell were Marinska’s flowers. He walked to their bedchamber in sullen silence.
He entered the room and shut the door behind him. Once more his gaze traveled to the bed. She would have given him children. Children born of their love. Children with their mother’s beautiful grace and spirit. A tear trickled down his cheek and he brushed it away. He stepped onto the balcony and looked down at the river. No longer would it be called Arges. From now on it would be the Princess River. “The burial place of my heart. I love and miss you my Beloved.” He tossed the flowers into the wind and watched as they gently floated to the flowing water below. In the sounds of the cascading water he could hear her vow, “beyond death my husband.”
Chapter Four
Wallachia Spring, 1462 Vlad’s madness grew. There were moments of complete black. It was then that he raged against the entirety of the world. Now, he was able to focus his fury on another enemy. The Turks were once more trying to take over his lands. They had to be stopped. He gathered his army and raced to the fore. He reined his mount to a stop on top of a small hill. In the valley below the sight shocked him. There were far more invaders than he’d been informed. To race in now would be complete folly. They would face a slaughter that would flood the ground with blood. “Pull back,” he shouted to his army. He turned and raced back to his troops. “We have been outnumbered. Fall back and return to my fortress! We must plot another angle of attack.” He took the lead and raced back to his stronghold. He called a halt at the outskirts of the first village they came upon. “Burn it,” he shouted. Confused murmurs rose on the air. “Burn it down. Poison the wells.” “But, Sire,” someone called out. “Do not be fools,” Vlad shouted again. “If we leave anything useful behind they will surely catch us. Destroy anything that cannot be moved.” There were no more arguments. Vlad watched some of the soldiers begin herding villages to the safety of a nearby wood. They were slowing the retreat. “Leave them,” he screamed and grabbed a burning torch. He threw it with wild abandon and it struck a small crofter’s home. Panicked cries came from inside. A soldier stopped and raced for the door.
“Leave them,” Vlad ordered. “We have to move.” The soldier ignored the command and burst through the door. “Damn you,” Vlad bellowed in rage. The desire to board the man inside and let him burn with the building shot through him. He had to resist that urge. It would cost him precious time and a body that would be useful against the enemy. The man’s insolence would be paid in due time. They traveled many hours before finally returning to the fortress. The sun had begun to sink low and weariness was obvious in every man’s face. “Dismount and meet me in one hour.” His officers nodded and moved off to care for their horses and clean themselves. Vlad went inside and headed for his apartment. He expected the door to be thrown open and his Marinska would race into his arms. Her kisses filling him, bolstering his ragged soul. But she wouldn’t be coming to him. Not now. Not ever again. His suffering for her loss had never eased. Every moment it was nearly impossible for him to breathe. When he remembered the significance of this day it was almost too much for him to bear. Marinska would have been his wife for five years today. Five years of joy, of love, of comfort. Now he faced the rest of his lifetime alone. He was drawn to the balcony. He spent every night there, staring into the darkening sky, listening as the waters carried her promise up to him. “Beyond death, my love,” he heard her whisper. “Vlad my love. Vlad my love. Vlad my love.” The sound became more urgent, punctuated harder and harder. He suddenly realized it was not her calling. There was a different noise on the night air. Below him the sounds of battering rams and the shouting from the ramparts rang in his ears. The Turks were invading his castle. He could see the futility of fighting with so many men ripping through his palace grounds. He had to get away and regroup his army. There was a hard knock on his door right before it burst open. Several men at arms rushed into the room. “Sire, the enemy is here.” “I know that,” Vlad spat. “Take every man you can find and lead him through the tunnels to the Carpathians. They know where to gather.” “Yes, Sire.”
The men raced from the room. Vlad ran for the small bedside table and picked up the little wooden chest that held his memories of Marinska. He paused for one more look at the bed before he turned for the stone wall. Two dragons were carved into the stone mantle above the fireplace. He reached for the one on the far left and pressed against the stone flames. The wall groaned and opened into a dark narrow passage. Vlad entered the darkness and froze. His heart slammed in panic. It was so dark. So small. He couldn’t catch his breath. The walls were so tight. The air was impossible to breath. “Come, my love,” he heard her soft voice whisper. “Marinska?” he marveled. “Yes my beloved. Come with me. Follow my voice. I will lead you on.” He swallowed hard and focused his mind on her. He could smell her light, floral scent filling the passage. “Marinska?” “Only a little further beloved. Only a little further.” Her comforting presence led him closer to the outer door. He reached it and pressed it open. The air was fresh and clean. And completely devoid of his wife. “Marinska,” he released the sighing sob. Once more she saved him. He ran for the mountains and his men. They would fight together once again. They would win.
Chapter Five
Hungary Spring, 1476 Vlad’s prison cell was confined and dark. The small sounds of mice skittering around him filled the room and echoed in his head. The only difference between day and night was the slivers of dim light that passed through the few slits covering holes that had once been windows. His years in the Hungarian prison had been passed miserably. The winters had been bitterly cold, the summers wickedly hot. He’d not bathed in months, or was it years? His own body repulsed him. In the slowly spreading light he found a mouse eating what meager food Vlad had been provided. He grabbed the mouse and grasped it tightly. It squirmed and squeaked. He could feel the small creature’s heart beating faster and faster. Vlad squeezed tighter and the beast inside roared to life. Something warm and sticky trailed between his fingers and trickled down his arm. When he opened his eyes, he could see the remains of the rodent crushed in his hand. He hurled the limp mass across the room and it hit the far wall with a sickening thud. He had to get out. He had to escape. He couldn’t take this captivity any longer. His lunacy was growing beyond any level he’d experienced before. He pounded on the door. “Free me,” he yelled. “Open this door and free me at once.” A small window carved into the door opened. “Quiet beast. I do not care for the sound of your voice.” “Then come and silence me,” Vlad jeered at the guard. “Or are you so fat and sluggish with food and drink you dare not challenge me?” The sound of the lock working told Vlad the result he hoped for had been attained. As soon as the wooden door slightly parted, Vlad grasped it with both hands. With a preternatural strength he jerked it open completely and grabbed the shocked guard, ripping the key from his
hands. He plunged the metal through the guard’s cheek and watched in glee as it emerged on the other side. As the guard wailed in pain, he slammed the injured man’s head into the stone wall, splitting his skull open wide. Vlad raced down the corridor and soon emerged into the open air and freedom. **** He had traveled by night and hid by day on his long journey from Hungary to home. Along the flight, he continued to elude his enemy and gather his troops. Finding supporters had been an almost impossible task, but he finally succeeded. Now he had to drive out his opposition and retake the throne. His distant cousin, Basarab the Younger from the Danesti clan, held the throne and all power in Wallachia. It was time rid the realm of the Danesti for good. Vlad gathered his men and in the dead of night, they snuck into the keep at Trigovste. They confronted the Danesti soldiers and attacked before the dawn. Vlad’s army was forced out into a large field outside the castle proper. The battle raged and he charged into the fray. The chaos around him whirled. Horses reared, men gave war cries, axes swung, and all around him bodies fell to the ground. Sharp pain sliced through his body. He could feel his life begin to slip away. “Beyond death, my Marinska. We shall be together again.” He looked up to find a man smiling in joy. One of his own men stood above him with a hatchet. “For your crimes, Vlad Ţepeş, for all the evils have you done. May you be cursed forever to roam, never knowing rest, never knowing peace or justice, just as all the thousands you robbed of life.” The hatchet swung once more and quick burning pain sliced through his neck.
Chapter Six
St. Louis, Missouri Spring, 1982 Allana Simpson dipped her toes into the cool water of the creek. The heat of the sun had warmed it to a wonderful temperature. David Wilkins ran to her and began splashing wildly. “Stop it, David. I didn’t want to get my hair wet.” “Then you shouldn’t have come to the creek.” He laughed and grabbed her arm, dragging her into the water until it reached her knees. David then turned her to face him. All splashing stopped and time stood still. He gently traced her face then leaned in to kiss her. He moved the strap of her suit and wriggled his hand underneath the Lycra-mix top. The rough skin of his thumb caressed her nipple and made it stiffen. Allana’s hands did some traveling of their own. She reached the waist of his swim trunks and slipped her hand inside. She took his cock into her hand and began to stroke it. He hardened in her grasp and her body flash burned for the feel of him on top of her. They had never made love before, but they’d done their deal of groping, petting and panting. She was ready. More than ready. She pulled back from him. “David—“ “I’m going to marry you, Allana Simpson. We’ll have a little house outside the city limits. A couple of kids and a dog, a German shepherd, running along side them.” “You’re going to marry me? What kind of proposal is that?” “One I hope you’ll accept.” She moved her face close to his. “I love you. Of course I’ll marry you.” His smile was one of pure joy and she was swept up in the wave of love that washed over them. “We need to get dried off,” she said. “We’ve got to have dinner with my sister and her family.”
“Right.” He chuckled and pulled her against him again, lowering them onto the grassy bank. He captured her lips as his hand slid up her thigh, his fingers skimming under the fabric of her suit. Her body melted and she shifted her hips, inviting him inside. The lazy, yet teasing touch nearly drove her insane. “David, please. I want you so badly.” “I want you too, Baby. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before.” The sound of voices up the creek doused cold water on their heated passion. He moved away from her and pushed up to his feet. “Come on. We’ve got to go anyway.” “Yeah, damn it.” He laughed but she could see the tenting at his crotch and the way he moved stiffly trying to ease his throbbing ache. His hand on her arm helped her up. Suddenly his hand was gone and the sound of water splashing made her spin back around. “David? Oh, my God.” She slipped down the mud bank and raced for him. She grabbed his arm pulling, trying to get him up. He was too heavy. It was as if he were snagged on something. “Someone help. Please help,” she screamed. In minutes other people began pulling on him. There were gurgling sounds and thrashing of the water. “Get him out,” she shrieked over again. By the time they pulled him out, his lips were blue. His eyes, while open, were glazed in the unmistakable mask of death. She dropped to her knees by his side. “No, David! Please no. What about the family you promised me?” Hands jerked at her, the sound of sirens filled the air but all she knew was the hole of anguish in her heart. “David,” she screamed and clawed her way to his side. “Don’t leave me, David. Please.” She swung around searching the faces around them. “Do something! For God sake help him!” No one moved and she released a guttural cry of pain. She spun and slapped at the medic standing closest. “Do something. You’re job is to save people. Don’t just stand there.” The medic pulled her close to him and held her as the hard sobs wracked her body. She sagged against him and had he not been there, she’d have collapsed back into the mud. “David.” Days passed in a hazy whirl. David wasn’t coming back. It hadn’t been a nightmare. He really was dead. There would be no happily ever after for them. **** The day of the funeral arrived and in keeping with the mood, it was dark and gray. Clouds welled and the sky looked as if it would open at any moment. God’s tears. That’s what her mother had called rain when she was little. God’s tears.
His tears wouldn’t ease hers. God wouldn’t share her pain. No one could comfort her. The minister’s words didn’t make sense, they only droned in a senseless, distant monotone. Why had this happened? Why had David been taken from her? She couldn’t stand it. The pain was too great. People had begun to mill around her trying to hold her but she couldn’t bear their touch. She ran from the graveside and broke through the small stand of weeping willows in the center of the cemetery. Weeping Willows. The irony had escaped her in times past. She sunk to the lush grass beneath the long draping limbs. The leaves closed around her, cocooning her against the world. A chill trickled across her skin and through her tear filled eyes it almost seemed as if the curtain branches opened to allow a form to pass inside. She wiped her eyes and saw that she was still alone. “Hush Beloved,” a voice whispered around her. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” The words were so faint she couldn’t even be certain she heard them. “David?” There was no answer. Maybe she was losing her mind.
Chapter Seven
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma Spring, 1984 Allana walked across campus to the student union. College. After working, scrimping and saving, she finally made it. She lived in the dorm. She had a group of friends that she could happily spend time with. Then, there was Michael Peters. She walked into the building and Michael grabbed her close. “There’s my beautiful woman. How was class?” She sank against him. “It was all right.” She rose on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Where are Jami and the rest?” “In front of the television. Where else? It’s time for Inspector Gadget you know.” “Then let’s go.” She took his hand and they entered the darkened room. The cartoon played on the large television screen and in the dimness, they picked their way to an open seat by their friends. “Hey guys,” she whispered. They received quiet helloes in return. She turned to Michael. “There’s only one seat.” “So?” He dropped into the chair and pulled her onto his lap. Protected in the darkness of the television room, he began to fondle the snap on her jeans. “Tonight? You, me, picnic under the stars?” “Yes, of course.” “Great. You have no idea how horny I am right now,” he whispered into her ear. She wriggled in his lap. “Oh, I have a very good idea.” She chuckled then caught a glimpse of his wristwatch. “Crap. I’m late.” “Not something a guy likes to hear,” he chuckled. She wriggled and lightly jabbed her elbow into his chest. “Funny. Real funny.”
He locked his arm around her waist. “I thought you were done with academics for the day.” “I’ve got my time at the computer lab. It took me forever to get it.” She slid off his lap and kissed his forehead. “Dinner. Stars. You. Me. Eight, right?” “Definitely.” She rushed out of the union and across the quad to the library. There had been weeks on waiting list to get access for one of the few computer cubicles. She had a paper to write and research to do. She’d be lucky to finish in time to get ready for her date. In front of the computer, she stared at images and articles about the warlord known as Vlad the Impaler. Why the hell had she chosen such a character for her research paper? She’d always been fascinated by the Voivode—an unnatural curiosity, pity, and twisted fascination with the man who was a demon on earth. Maybe he’d been afflicted with a mental disease, much like Hitler and numerous other evil historical figures. Vlad and Hitler had so much in common. Both were cruel tyrants who should’ve died long before they actually did. Both men were brutal. Both had agendas. Both had believed they were right. All-powerful. God-like. Men to be hated. Men to be feared and despised. “Beloved…” The word whispered against her neck. The sound pricked a memory that chilled her to the bones. She’d heard that same voice at David’s funeral. It had taken time, but she eventually convinced herself that she’d imagined it. Her sorrow had some how created it. But that had been then. Why was she hearing it now? The sounds of sirens and people shouting drew her to the window. Mike’s dorm was on fire! She ran down the steps and raced across quad to his building. Smoke billowed from a window. His window. Firemen pushed their way into the building while security and police held the crowd back. She raced from group to group searching for his face. “Have you seen Michael? Michael Peters?” Everyone said no. He was still in there! “Michael,” she screamed over the roar of sirens.
Suddenly, the fire threw heat over the crowd that had gathered behind the lines established by the police department. Her friends, Jami Williams and Wade Gentry, gathered close around her. “No one’s seen Michael. He’s still in there,” Allana shouted. “Why haven’t they brought him out?” Jami held her tight, trying to offer some comfort. “They will Allana. They will.” The three of them watched the building burn. Allana knew they were all offering up the same prayer: that Michael would be safe and back with them soon. Three men in turn-out gear exited the building. One of them carried something over his shoulder. No. Not something. Someone. Allana broke free from Jami and pushed her way through the crowd. “Michael,” she screamed as rushed to him. Arms wrapped in yellow sleeves held her back. “You don’t want to go over there miss.” “Michael, oh God.” Tears coursed down her cheeks and hard sobs wracked her body. She tried to get to Michael but they wouldn’t let her pass. Jami and Wade ran up to her and sandwiched her between them. Allana couldn’t find words. Her knees weakened. They caught her before she collapsed into a heap on the ground. She glanced over Wade’s shoulder to see two firemen standing close by. “He should’ve made it out,” one said. "Weirdest fire I’ve ever worked. His hand was almost touching the door.” The second man shook his head. “We couldn’t get it open. It was like there was a safe or something behind it. Then, just as the fire was dying the door just kind of popped open.” “I just knew the fire was hard to knock down. It was like our water fed it. Then all of the sudden it backed off and we got it.” “Damndest thing. The boy should’ve made,” the first man mumbled again. Allana pushed her friends away and turned to face the firefighters. “What?” she glanced from man to man. “What did you say? What do you mean?” One shifted his helmet. The look on his face told plainly told her she wasn’t meant to overhear their conversation. He shook his head and just stared at her. “Damn it, tell me what you meant.” The fireman moved close to her. “Was he a friend of yours?” She shook harder. “Please tell me what you meant.”
He cleared his throat and placed an arm around her. “It was a terrible accident. I’m so sorry for your loss.” He motioned over to a security guard. When the guard came over the fireman leaned in close and whispered to him. The guard nodded and placed a hand on her arm. “Let’s get you out of here.” Allana turned back and saw the body being loaded into the back of the ambulance. “No!” She jerked free and ran to the back doors. Police and firefighters put their arms up blocking her way. “No! Michael. Please no!” **** When the day of the funeral arrived, she was almost too weak to go. She couldn’t talk to anyone. She couldn’t bear being close to any one. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t sleep. She felt numb. She moved woodenly from the car that chauffeured her to the church, up the stark white steps and inside the building. Once more she found herself lost in a fog. It was inconceivable that she had lost someone else she loved. First David, now Michael. Sounds of sadness filled the room. She stopped in the doorway of the auditorium. At the front near the pulpit was the casket. A deep, rich mahogany casket. It was highly polished and gleaming in the florescent lights overhead. The beautiful coffin was closed. She hadn’t actually seen what was left of Michael’s body, but she had seen glimpses of human remains after a fire. He was probably no more than a smoky black skeleton. She could almost smell the charred flesh that had melted off his body. She could hear his screams as the flames enveloped him. She could picture his room in her mind. His stereo had melted into a black plastic heap. Electrical outlets sizzled and snapped with the surging force of the blaze. Then he was there. Lying in the middle of the floor. His blackened skeletal hand still wore scorched strips of skin. “Help me,” he croaked. He looked up and the eerie half faced smile made her scream. He dragged himself to her on his bony hands. His fingers snapped and popped with each centimeter. “Help me Allana,” he wheezed. The gruesome images flashed in her mind and she doubled over. Bile burned the back of her throat. She had to get away. She gulped for air while she made the mad dash for the bathroom and a commode to vomit in. She slammed the metal door of the stall shut behind her. Then knelt on the cool tile of
the floor and bent over the toilet. With one hand, she held her hair back from her face while she steadied herself with the other on the porcelain seat. She retched until her stomach was empty and still dry heaved afterwards. Michael was gone. He had to have suffered. You couldn’t burn like that and not feel it. Michael. She remembered the first time she saw him. She’d just moved into her dorm and was walking around the campus getting her bearings. A group of guys were horsing around. They were all attractive. But Michael was glorious. He stood over six feet tall with dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and a smile that knocked her socks off. She kept watching him, walking closer to the group, unable to stop herself. She hadn’t even been aware of the sidewalk under feet. But she sure missed it when it was gone. She stumbled over the edge and fell. Right into his arms. She pulled away and the flames of embarrassment burned her face for hours. Each time she saw him after that she flushed. He eventually invited her out. From that point on she was stuck, and she reveled in it—reveled in him and happiness. She hadn’t felt so light, so carefree since she’d been with David. When Allana finally found the strength to stand, she left the stall and went to the sink to wash her face and rinse her mouth. On shaking legs she went out to the main chapel. The auditorium was filled with people. Friends from college, from high school, family members. It seemed as if anyone who had ever known Michael had come to pay his or her respects. The service was a long, hazy affair and when it was over, she was driven to the cemetery for the burial. Another cemetery. Another grave. After his funeral Allana couldn’t find her way. She was lost in the crowd. Concentration was impossible. She finally realized she couldn’t stay. No one understood her. Her dreams were nightmares filled with flames, smoke and screams of agony. She had to get away. Far away.
Chapter Eight
St. Louis, Missouri Spring, 1992
Whit Stanley’s classic white Trans-Am came into sight at an easy pace. It was the only car on the road. Since the new highway had been built people preferred its fast pace to the slow winding of the old road. The sun was bright in the clear blue sky. The scent of lilacs and hyacinths floated on the soft warm breeze. It was the perfect day. He turned from the highway up the outer road. Allana smiled. Soon, Whit would be holding her. Moment’s later, Allana’s heart froze in mid-beat. Cold chills wrapped around her like invisible arms and panic surged throughout her body. The all too familiar sensations that portended something horrible. She looked up at the highway that ran parallel to her road. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. “Beloved.” The world changed the instant that dreaded voice whispered in her ear. In slow motion Whit’s car swerved out of control. She watched in horror as the Trans-Am slammed into a speed limit sign. The metal post and the front end of the car made a horrible scraping sound as they connected. Glass shattered as the sign itself broke through the windshield. She took off at a dead run for the chain link fence that separated the outer road from the highway. She cleared the barrier and raced for the car. Blood spurted upward and sprayed through the opening, splattering on the white hood of the classic Trans-Am. The gray and red firebird painted on the hood took on a demonic appearance, with blood coating its beak and streaking from the wings.
Suddenly, Whit’s head rolled to a stop near her feet. With a thin line of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Whit’s wide eyes focused on her and his lips moved. “He can never have you. I am here Beloved.” She screamed and the world went dark. **** Allana sat beside the fresh grave and buried her face in her hands. “Why does this keep happening? What’s wrong with me? Why does everyone I love and could build a life with die? I don’t understand. I’m a good person. I’ve always been kind. I’ve tried to help people. Why is it that every time I fall in love, something like this happens?” A cool breeze floated across her. Chill bumps raced down her arms. Someone just walked over my grave. That’s what her Granny always said, wasn’t it? The chill didn’t leave. An invisible hand, cold as death, slid across her cheek. “Do not weep, Beloved. I am here. I will always be here.” That damn voice again! What the hell was going on? She ran back to her car and locked herself in. No doubt about it now. She really was going crazy.
Chapter Nine
St. Louis, Missouri Winter, 1992 Allana sat in a plush chair at her psychiatrist’s office. The voices. The paranoid feeling of being watched, being cursed, was driving her nearly insane. Or was she already there? “How was your month, Allana?” Dr. Martin asked as he entered the room. “Just terrific,” she couldn’t keep the sarcastic drip from her tone. “It’s been almost four months since Whit’s death. Are you still having episodes?” “Episodes? You mean the voices? The feeling of being watched? The knowledge I’ll never be able to have a real life? Yeah. I guess you could say I’m still having episodes.” Fear and frustration surged. “I’ve managed to kill everyone that ever meant anything to me.” He shook his head and scribbled in her file. He lifted sheets and scanned the pages. “Allana, I think you should be somewhere… less isolated. Maybe a short break. A mini vacation if you will.” “Short break? Mini vacation? Why do I have a feeling you aren’t referring to a trip to Hawaii or some other tropical location?” “I’m only saying you shouldn’t be alone right now. It seems as if your paranoia is growing.” “How does that saying go? ‘Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean I’m not being followed’?” “This isn’t a joking matter, Allana.” “Do you hear me laughing? I don’t know…” she trailed off. “You need to be seen more than once a month. With the holidays coming, things are only going to become more difficult—” “Gee thanks Doc. Any idea which building I should throw myself from?”
“I’m only saying that people who suffer from deep depression grow worse over the holidays. Especially people who have lost a loved one. The first Christmas, the first year without that person is the hardest.” “I’ve been here before you know. David, Michael, now Whit. You’d think I could handle this. I’ve had enough practice.” “Have you gone to visit your sister?” “No. Uh-uh. We know the people I love die and you want me to go and risk my sister’s family? Are nuts?” “The deaths are not your fault. You have to see that. Intensive therapy would do you a world of good. There are medications I can prescribe. With daily supervision, on a temporary basis, we can discover which dosage of what medications can help you control your episodes.” “So you’re saying I need to be locked up and drugged?” “For a short time.” “Screw you. I’m not ready for the crazy house. I don’t know what’s happening in my life. I do know the voices are real. I know that I’m living with some sort of nightmarish curse. I need to know how to get rid of it.” “And I’ve offered you the solution.” “Thanks. I’ll pass.” She left the office and walked out into the bright afternoon. There was a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the season. It was the glaring reminder of the curse in her life. That undefined presence that was with her constantly. The one that took away any happiness she’d ever known. She opened her car door and then glanced back at the medical building. Maybe she should take that vacation.
Part Two A love that endures… beyond death…
Chapter Ten
St. Louis, Missouri Spring, 2006 Allana sat outside the coffee shop near her office building. The hustle and bustle of downtown floated around her. Somehow, even amid the crowded streets, she felt alone. Her life had been so empty. So lonely. She wanted to reach out. She wanted to have someone in her life to love and who would love her. But memories of the ones she’d loved and lost haunted her. It was a curse. There was no other way to explain it. Men had asked her out. One or two had even been possibilities, but the curse kept her home and alone. Always alone. “Allana?” Tom Haugan, an account in her building, stood near her table. If she had ever decided to give up her self imposed celibacy, it would be for Tom. The man was gorgeous with his deep brown hair and amber eyes. He had strong hands and long fingers. Musician’s fingers—they would look perfect around the neck of a Les Paul. Those fingers would feel… Damn it had been too long. She wasn’t dead despite the blight in her life. She still wanted to feel a man inside her. Tom cleared his throat. She felt awkward at being caught staring. “Hi Tom.” “Mind if I sit down?” She shaded her eyes against the sun and smiled. “Please.” “Nice day isn’t it?” She nodded and sipped her iced coffee. “Summer is almost here. When I was a kid, I loved summer breaks.” He grinned. “Me too. What kid didn’t? No more school, no more books, no more teachers dirty looks.”
She couldn’t contain her laughter. He was sitting there with a silly grin on his face and he spoke in a childlike, high pitch nasal tone. “Tom, you are too much.” “There it is.” “What?” “That smile that lights up a room. The sparkle in your eyes.” Her cheeks heated with the blush she knew was creeping its way across her face. “Thank you. I…” She felt completely flustered. “I think that is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” “It shouldn’t be a long time between compliments.” He kept staring at her. “What? Do I have a bug in my hair?” “No. I’m sorry but I can’t stop looking at you. You’re just so beautiful.” She quickly became uncomfortable. If she didn’t stop him, the black cloud in her life would drift over his head. “I need to get back to work. Claims won’t process themselves.” “I’ll walk back with you.” He stood up and offered his arm. The man’s smile was enough to set any girl’s heart fluttering. Hers was. “That would be great.” He smelled as sexy as he looked. I really would like to get to know you better. All she had to do was say it. Would he even ask her out? With your reputation as Ice Queen? Not on your life. “Nice day.” Good one, dummy. You already said that. “Yep. Still is.” She felt a chill and jerked her attention away from Tom. There it was again. That hellish chill. The precursor of the calamities to follow. Please, please, please don’t let anything happen. Tom stood a little taller as she walked along side of him. Allana was so beautiful. Her dark blonde hair hung to her shoulders. Her green eyes were large and soft like spring grass. He only paid attention to the gossip when it concerned her. There had been insults made by some of the male coworkers she’d rejected, comments about the ice in her veins. Sometimes there was an obvious bit of jealousy from other girls in the office. Allana didn’t have a man in her life. Apparently, she didn’t date at all, at least as far the office girls knew. He felt her shudder against him. She was pale, her glance scanning all around them. She shivered again. “Allana?”
She jumped like a scalded cat. “Yes?” “Is something wrong?” She continued to scan the area around them. She watched the streets, the passing cars, the passing people. What was she watching for? “Allana?” he pressed. “I’m sorry Tom. I’m just a bit distracted.” She flashed him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Will you go out to dinner with me?” That’s it moron, just blurt it out. She stopped short. “I don’t know. I… I haven’t been out with anyone in a long time.” “Then who better to jump back into the river with?” A funny look crossed her face. Was it sadness? “I don’t think so. Staying out of the water is much safer.” When he opened the door to the Simmons building they worked in, she turned to him. “Thank you anyway.” He watched her disappear down the hall. What was it going to take to get her to agree on a date? “Re-e-e-e-e-ejected.” Tom turned to face Wayne Dobbins, the self proclaimed office Casanova. “What?” Wayne snickered. “The Ice Queen slammed you down?” Tom clenched his jaw. “I really hate hearing that.” “What else do we call her? She doesn’t really socialize with the rest of us mere mortals. She doesn’t bother to pretend she notices me.” Tom smirked. “Maybe because she thinks you’re an ass. Calling her Ice Queen definitely won’t win any points.” “Whatever. She’ll never go out with you.” “Never say never.” Vlad had followed her. His Marinska. The dark haired man who had sat with her, walked with her, and smiled at her, couldn’t be allowed to remain near her. The man had gazed at her with longing in his eyes. He wanted her. There had been others to try to take her love from him, but Vlad refused to allow it. “You can not have her.” The sadness on Marinska’s face when he snuffed the life from those men cut him, but she was his and no one would be allowed to interfere.
He entered the building hovering near the man who had dared to speak to her, the one she called Tom. Tom began to climb a set of marbled steps. Vlad waited as his rival climbed higher. When Tom reached the top step, Vlad moved in front of him. “Do not speak to her,” he whispered. Tom’s eyes widened. Vlad knew his words had been heard. The men always heard his whispered words right before he killed them. For the barest moments, he hesitated. Marinska’s grief had always been so deep. Still, Vlad refused to relinquish what was his. With a shove, he watched Tom fall down the steps. Each step connected with some part of the man. Pain was obvious on his face. Tom lay at the bottom of the steps gasping for breath. The desire to see blood, to see agony, ate at Vlad with an intensity that was too strong to fight. Moving closer to a statue that stood just above where Tom laid. Vlad gave it a hard thrust. The statue fell, shattering on the ground, missing Tom’s head by only the slimmest span. “Damn you. Next time you will not be so lucky. Stay away from her.”
Chapter Eleven
“Did you hear?” Allana looked up at the office assistant, Nina Fairchild. “Hear what?” “You know Tom from accounting? The hot dark haired dream boat?” Allana waved her hand. “I know Tom. What about him?” “He fell ass over tea kettle down the steps yesterday. From the second floor all the way to the lobby.” She gasped. “Is he hurt?” Nina frowned slightly. “They think he busted a couple of ribs and some fingers are broken. It could’ve been a lot worse. That statue of whatever the hell it’s supposed to be fell and almost crushed him. It missed by like a hair.” Tom fell? Down steps he’d been on for how many years? A statue that had been in place since the building was constructed just happened to fall when Tom was on the floor? The plague was still with her. He’d only spoken to her. What would’ve happened if she had agreed to go out with him? Did Nina know it was Allana’s fault? Had she been seen talking to Tom before this accident? Accident? No. There was no accident. Being with her was the reason. “I’ve got to go.” Allana shoved out of her chair and rushed to the door. Nina followed. “Where are you going?” “Anywhere but here,” she called back over her shoulder before racing down the steps. Her foot slipped and gravity began to pull her downward. Suddenly an invisible hand steadied her on her feet. She’d have fallen if not for that ghostly grip. Shaking off the unseen hold, she didn’t stop running until she reached her car. She jumped in and slammed the door, shut then clicked the locks three times just to make sure the car was secure. A presence filled the car with her. She couldn’t prove it. She couldn’t see it, but it was there. She was sure a cold finger traced along her jaw line.
“Please stop,” she shouted as she started the engine. Peeling out of the parking lot, she rushed down the streets and onto the onramp. Racing down the freeway, Allana tried to get her swirling mind to focus. This was ridiculous. She should at least go to the hospital and make sure Tom was okay. Right. Go and see what else can happen to him. “I just want to know he’s all right. Please spare me that much.” Who the hell was she talking to? The fates? The gods? Whoever would listen and give her this moment of peace? The conflict inside settled and she pulled into the lot of the nearest hospital. Had they brought him here? If they had, was he still there? Who was she kidding? Hospital emergency rooms moved like molasses in an arctic blizzard. She parked in the emergency lot and went inside. The nurse behind the reception desk barely spared her a glance. “Can I help you?” “I’m looking for Tom Haugan? He’s about six feet tall. Dark brown hair. Amber eyes. Broad shoulders. Muscular arms.” “I didn’t realize you really saw me.” Allana spun on her heel so hard she nearly lost her balance. “I… How are you? Is it bad?” He moved close to her. “I’m all right. I have a lot of bruises and sore muscles. Doctor says it’s a miracle I didn’t break anything. I’m just waiting on paperwork. You know how quickly things move around these places. I was on one of those hard cots all flipping night. I’m ready to get out of here. She began to back away. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. So… Okay then. I’ve—I’m going to go.” She didn’t make any sense. “Where are you going?” “I’ve got to get out of here.” “I don’t understand. You drive all the way out here just to turn around and leave?” She baffled him completely. “Look, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could give me a ride home? I’m a little off kilter.” Her eyes became wide. “I’d love to, but I can’t. I’m going the other direction.” “I need a ride home. Please?” He was whining?
He could tell she was considering it. She studied his face intently and seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer. Why was she trying so hard to avoid him? “It’s not that far,” he prodded. She sighed deeply. “All right, but be careful.” “I promise, no more steps, only elevators.” She didn’t even crack a smile. What was wrong with her? They walked in silence out to the parking lot. She settled him in her car. It feels like it’s below forty degrees in here. She slid in and he watched her face, trying to figure out why she was so tense. “Kind of cool. Did you have the air conditioner on full blast or something?” She paled and sat still. “I don’t know that this is such a good idea.” “What isn’t a good idea?” “This.” She still didn’t move. He waited for her to say more but she didn’t. Her green eyes were large and full of fear. “Your accident. It’s—never mind you wouldn’t understand.” She started the engine, backed out of the spot. “It might help if you’d explain it to me.” She shook her head. “Which way do I go?” They drove away in silence, but he couldn’t resist the urge to press her for conversation. “Something’s bothering you. What is it?” “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.” “Again?” Her green eyes were large and full of fear. She started the engine, backed out of the spot. “Which way?” “Make a left out of the lot and then onto twenty-one.” He watched her nod but she seemed distracted. “Where am I taking you?” she asked again. “Get off at one-forty-one and make a right. Then immediately on your left is a side road.” He kept his eyes on her. “The road is so old it doesn’t even have a name. I’ve lived there forever.” She didn’t take her gaze from the highway. Traffic was thin at this time of day and she acted like he wasn’t even there. She made the right and then the jog to the left.
Tom shook his head. “Up on your right is an old gravel road. Follow it all the way down the valley and just keep going until it looks like you’re going to run into the woods. My house is on the left.” “Out in the boonies,” she muttered. “Finally, you do speak.” He chuckled. “Just an observation.” Talk about a distant woman. She cared enough to come and check on him at the hospital. She was kind enough to drive him home. What was going on in her head? The road down to his valley was filled with washed out potholes and run offs. He loved it out here. The neighbors were friendly enough to say howdy, but distant enough to keep his privacy intact. She pulled into his short driveway and stopped in front of the garage door. “Want to come in?” Allana shook her head. “I need to get home.” “Let me offer you a drink or something to thank you for this.” “For your accident or the ride,” he thought he heard her mumble. “I’ve got a couple of stairs in there that I could use some help maneuvering.” She heaved a sigh. “I’ve already been here too long, Tom. I know you can make it.” “Maybe you can come back tomorrow or the next day and take me to pick up my car?” “Goodbye Tom,” she reached over and shut the door then she backed away. “Thanks again,” he muttered as he walked inside. The cement steps that led into the mudroom seemed taller today than usual. He passed through the utility room and unlocked his door. He walked inside and pulled the door closed. There was a scent that always hung in the air. It smelled like butterscotch, camphor and joint relief cream. No matter how many times he cleaned it or aired it out, the smell never left the house. It was like a portion of his grandmother stayed with him. Tom hobbled to the living room and dropped into his La-Z-Boy recliner. He put his legs up and closed his eyes against the pain. He should take one of the doctor’s magic pills. He forced himself up with a groan and headed for the kitchen. He popped open the bottle and washed the tablet down with a glass of orange juice, then shuffled back to the recliner.
He lay back and once again closed his eyes. Damn pills would take about fifteen or twenty minutes to kick in. Images of Allana danced in his mind. She was so beautiful, but so hard to figure out. His living room grew cold. A chill washed over him and he sat up. He was suddenly pressed back into the seat. Tom struggled against the suffocating air. He clawed and jerked as the pressure grew heavier. “I warned you,” the accented voice growled in his ear. “I told you to stay away from Marinska. She has taken pity on you. I will also, for this time. Do not test me again.” The weight was gone as suddenly as it had appeared. Tom’s chest burned as he gasped for breath. The same disembodied voice. What the hell was going on? He sat up straight and glanced around the room. It was no longer cold. What a nightmare! He reached behind him to the counter and picked up the bottle of pain pills. “I won’t be taking any more of these,” he said and tossed the bottle into the can by his chair. When Vlad returned to her, Marinska was stopped at a sign at an intersection. She was such a gentle woman, and of course she would take pity on the man, Tom. That was how her heart worked. Hadn’t she offered her warmth and comforting embrace to him on many a long night? Hadn’t she treated the peasants who worked for them with a gentle hand? She was so beautiful—how could any man look at her and not love her? Just thought of those men touching her made a white-hot rage fill him. The men who had dared look at her. The ones who had been so bold as to try to make her fall in love with them deserved their fates. This man, Tom, had no idea how much he was tempting destiny by pursuing Marinska. “I have loved you for so long. I have waited forever. I will never let you go. Beyond death you are mine.” She shivered against the chill she had when he was near. “I’m sorry Beloved. I will find a way to bring you back to me without your discomfort.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He could sense her panic and the car swerved. He reached out to grab the steering wheel and keep her from crashing. “Beloved.”
Chapter Twelve Allana headed through her front door and to the bedroom. Her work clothes were confining and uncomfortable. Numbly, she undressed, slipping on her old flannel plaid shorts and lightweight t-shirt, then walked into the kitchen. She stood in front of the open fridge staring at nothing. There was an aura about Tom, but she wasn’t sure what it was. He was sexy; there was no denying that. He was smart. He was funny. He made her feel free. She could see herself allowing him to get close. She opened the freezer, grabbed a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream and headed for the sofa. Another lonely night. “Just once. I want to be happy. Please. Just once let me find love.” She ate spoon after spoon. “Just once,” she begged one last time. She pressed into her pillow and closed her eyes. She’d felt love once. Long ago. A memory pushed at her. What was it? She had known a love unlike any she’d ever known before. The man loved her, too. More than life. He held her close. Kept her safe. She tried to scan her mind but while the image danced on the fringes, she couldn’t nail it down. Why was the memory so illusive? “Beyond death, my beautiful Marinska.” She jerked up. The voice had seemed so real. Coldness pressed against her cheek. It was almost like a gentle kiss. Beyond death? What was in those words that made sadness envelope her heart? Hearing voices. Feeling cold chills. People say that haunted houses, haunted persons, vehicles, buildings—they all have those qualities. Cold. Voices. “Right. I’m haunted.” She pushed off the sofa and paced back to the kitchen. Haunted. It was just as believable as being cursed. Who would haunt her? Why would they? “David?”
Silence met her call. Of course it did. “All right. Is it a curse? Is it a haunting? Am I just losing my mind? Please tell me what to do so I can be free. Please.” Look at you. Sitting in an empty apartment, talking to the air and begging to a ghost to release you? “I need a drink.” Once more she padded into her kitchen. Under the sink were bottles in a variety in flavors. “Vodka? Whisky? Brandy? Here’s the answer, tequila.” She placed the Jose Cuervo bottle on the counter, pulled out pineapple juice, and a bit of Triple Sec. She hummed a song about Jose Cuervo being a good friend as she mixed the drink and made her way back to the sofa. Three glasses later, she was belting the song out at the top of her lungs. She was more relaxed and not as confused. Fuzzy, but not confused. It took a bit of doing but she pushed herself off the couch and headed for her bedroom. “Whoever is haunting me, whoever is cursing me, go away. Please just leave me alone.” She rolled onto her side and closed her eyes. The room got another chill and she reached down to draw the comforter close to her chin. Tom sprawled on the floor the stone crushing half of his body. The sound of an evil voice laughing filled the building. “Never. You will never know happiness. You made this happen. The curse of Allana Simpson.” She shoved up from the bed. Her heart pounded. Sweat poured off her like a sheet of rain and she shivered violently. Was it the cold or the fear or both? The blessed relaxation of intoxication was immediately gone. Stone cold sober, she scanned the room. She’d been so careful about not letting anyone get close to her. She had made a mistake. One that almost cost Tom his life. **** Tom hobbled through his apartment. He lowered down into his La-Z-Boy and tried to stretch out. The pain pills the doc had given him should be taking effect soon. Lord did he hurt. Each step ripped through him. The falling out of control feeling was nothing compared to fear he’d felt as the statue came crashing down near his head. He could’ve had a broken neck and ended up paralyzed or dead. He could’ve died under that crushing pile of stones. Hell yeah he’d been lucky. Luck, guardian angel, whatever it was, thank God it was on his side.
He had heard a man’s voice right before he fell. There had been no one there but the whispered warning was so real. Do not speak to her. In those few words he heard a cultured Eastern European accent. German? No, that wasn’t right. Slavic? Had he really heard anything at all? When he saw Allana at the hospital, asking about him, from the concern and worry in her eyes he could tell she felt some kind of attraction for him. Don’t read any more into it. She’s just the kind of person who would check on someone who is hurt or sick. How did he know that with such certainty? Something could happen again. What had she meant by that? When he looked at her, he could see the sadness, the loneliness in her eyes. Why was she trying so hard to push him away? Maybe she had a jealous ex? Was that why she was trying so hard to be alone? She never dated. She kept to herself. When he was near it seemed like she was watching out for something. Her eyes seemed so haunted at times. Curiosity nagged at him. If she was afraid of someone, what could he do to make her feel safe? Why did she get to him? She was a stranger. A beautiful, mysterious stranger. I always did like a good mystery. He’d find the answers and get close to her. Allana. Even her name was perfect. You sound like a damn schoolboy with his first crush. Next thing you’ll be writing her name and yours in small hearts all over the place. He got ready for bed, but when he lay down and closed his eyes, all he could see was her face. “I’ll find out Allana. I promise you that.” Maybe he should drive over to see her. Where did she live? He could find out. Brenda from personnel was one of his closest friends. Maybe he could get Allana’s address from Brenda. First thing in the morning he’d go by and see his good friend. **** Vlad stood over Marinska, watching her sleep. She looked so peaceful. She wanted him to leave? Never. She was his.
He moved around the bed and lay down beside her. She shivered and he moved closer to warm her, but his presence near her only made her shake harder. He finally left her side and stood. He longed to feel the warmth of her once more. The way her body felt next to his. There had been so much comfort in her touch. Comfort he desperately needed. Comfort that no one else would ever be allowed to feel, even if it meant he killed every man within one hundred miles of her. “I’m never leaving you, Marinska. I will find a way for us to be together again.” She stirred and rolled over in the bed. Was she dreaming of him? How he wished he had the power to see inside her mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Allana looked around her apartment. It had been so hard to get the loft and now she was going to have to give it up. I don’t want to go, the voice in her head whined. Then don’t go. She heaved a frustrated sigh. Time to get ready for work. She had to turn in her two weeks and finalize all the files she had going. Tom’s face floated in her mind. At least he wouldn’t be at work for her last days. There was no way he’d be up for it after his accident. Don’t you forget you are the reason he was injured. Suddenly, she felt it. Felt like someone was watching her. She was sure of it. All the window shades were pulled down, so why did the weight of a pair of eyes pull down on her? Her apartment was too far up for a peeping Tom anyway. Tom. Forget it. She finished dressing and rushed off. She was going to be late. Great. Be late the day you turn in your notice. That will bode well for future job applications. There wasn’t any time to even grab her coffee before she bolted out the door. Without her coffee, she could be a bitch on wheels. Ice Queen. Bitch. Who really cared what they all said or thought anyway? The drive to her office usually took twenty minutes. That was if she left at her normal time. With rush hour traffic, it would take her at least forty-five, maybe even an hour. She sped as fast as she dared in the ever-tightening bottleneck of cars. A little red car zipped by, cut her off, and Allana found herself spouting language she hadn’t used since her teenage years. She made it into the lot, parked, and dashed up the steps. She’d get her day started, computer booted up, and faxes gathered, then go back down to give them her notice. The machines whirred around her and suddenly made her head hurt. She sat down and massaged the temples with her fingertips.
The pounding in her head grew stronger and black spots danced in pinpoints before her eyes. She wanted to curl into a ball, hide in a dark closet. Anything that would make the pain go away. Chills raced up her spine and icy fingers traced along her hands. The invisible fingers began to massage her temples. The circular motion relaxed her and soothed the pain. Breath like a winter breeze puffed on her cheek and the feel of icy lips grazing her skin sent her jumping from her seat. “Leave me alone!” The sound of her phone ringing slammed through her. Push it all away. She grabbed the receiver. “This is Ms. Simpson.” “Allana?” “Yes?” “It’s Tom. Tom Haugan.” She tried to stifle the groan and forced a brighter note to her voice. “Hi Tom. How are you feeling?” “Sore. Achy. How are you?” Did he somehow know about her headache? “I’m all right.” The phone line fell silent. Maybe he hung up? “I just wanted to thank you. You know, for checking on me and all.” It’s the least I could since I almost killed you. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re all right.” “Yep. I’ll live.” “Glad to hear it.” She looked around the room. The cold hadn’t left her side. “Listen. I want to ask you out again.” “I already told you no.” “One pity date. Please? Just one.” His voice wrapped around her. She wanted to go out with him. She wanted to spend one evening with him. It was so tempting. Just open your mouth and say yes. Was she out of her mind? Don’t even consider it. She knew the dangers. The warnings had already been issued. But she was so tired of being alone and she suddenly was hit with a wave of selfishness. “All right. When?” Big mistake Allana. You shouldn’t have said that.
“I’ll pick you up tonight. Six?” Don’t do this a tiny voice in her mind ordered. “Six sounds fine. I’ll see you then Tom. Bye. “Wait. Where should I pick you up?” Maybe you shouldn’t let him come. “My apartment. You know the Courts at Windham? Building six” “Which one is my lucky number?” He was so cute in personality. The man also had a body that made her heart beat wildly. She sighed. You’ve given in this far already. Take it all the way. “ Apartment Six.” “Okay. Six at six it is. Bye Allana.” “Bye Tom.” She slid the phone back into the cradle. Unease gripped her. Building six. Apartment six. Six o’clock. Six-six-six. Not a good omen. Not good at all. What did I just do? What was his phone number? She had to call him back and tell him she changed her mind. If she didn’t there would be hell to pay. All the signs pointed to it. “Allana?” Nina walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re as pale as death.” “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just…” she turned around and waved her hand. “I’m just tired. It’s like I’m tired all the time. I sleep but I don’t rest. I get headaches, I get chills…” I hear voices. I have a date with the devil. “Maybe you’re coming down with something. Why don’t you go home? I can cover here for you. Try to rest. Clear your head.” Home. With the cold that followed her everywhere? At least here she didn’t feel as threatened. “No. I’m okay.” “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” She turned and opened the first file on her computer. Despite which keys she pressed they all spelled the same word. Marinska. “What the hell?” Nina looked over at her. “What, what?” Allana stared at the screen and watched as the strange word faded and her screen was filled the same boring files. “Never mind.” “Girl, maybe you really are getting sick with something.” “Nerves.”
“Nerves?” “I’ve got a date tonight.” She admitted it? Nina pushed out of her chair so fast the seat was left spinning. “Date? Dish.” She was normal. Normal friend. Normal conversation. Normal date. “Tom.” “Tom Haugan? No freaking way! Are you kidding? No wonder you’re all worked up. If I had a date with that hunk of deliciousness, I’d be all nervous too. Geez. You and Tom.” Nina shook her head. “I should be more quiet like you.” “More like an Ice Queen maybe?” Nina’s head jerked up almost as fast as her jump from the chair had been. “Allana…” “Don’t worry about it. I know. I’ve heard it all.” The cold draped over, pressing her down. “I need to call it off.” “What?” “I can’t go out with him. I was stupid to even agree to it.” She searched over the phone trying to find his number. There it was on the caller id. She hit redial and waited. “Hey this is Tom. I’m here, but ignoring my calls, so leave a message.” Allana swallowed the smile. He made her feel light and carefree. “Tom its Allana. I just needed to say…” Nina slammed down the phone. “Have you lost it? Tom Haugan. Tom Haugan. Don’t you dare break this date.” “I can’t go out with him. It’s not safe.” Nina was staring at her. “Not safe? You think Tom’s not safe?” “No. I’m not.” Nina was still staring as if Allana’s head had fallen off. “What do you mean? Do you plan on jumping him as soon as you get him alone?” Tom’s image danced in her mind. “That’s not a half bad idea,” she murmured devilishly. The cold around her dissipated and she sat back. That was all it took? Just admitting to wanting another man? Jeez, she should’ve done that before. Was it that easy to break the curse? “Earth to Allana?” “What?” “I said are you going to keep the date?” “Yes. The date, my job, my apartment, my life.” Nina cocked her head. “I didn’t realize so much hinged on a date.”
“You have no idea.” **** The day sped by and her nerves began to jangle again. What if this was a huge mistake? What if Tom had another accident? Her mind whirled with so many different thoughts it was hard to get a handle on one. Cursed? Had it really been just bad accidents? They were all men she cared for. They were all men she could have, and did love. Was it really coincidence that they died while she was with them? “Pretty strange coincidence.” Nina turned to her. “What?” “Nothing. I’m just getting nervous again.” “It not like this is your first date—right?” “I’ve dated before. Just not since…” not since Whit died. “It’s been a long time.” “Who better to get back into the game with?” Allana nodded. “I’ve got to be ready by six.” “It’s… five thirty now? It was just three. What the hell happened to my clock?” “Crap.” Allana jerked from her desk. “Do you mind closing down?” “Nope. Not when the Ice Queen has a date.” She hit the steps running. She was going to do this, she couldn’t be late. That would just be the icing on the cake. She pushed through the double glass doors and rushed across the parking lot. She jumped in the car and felt the presence again. It was stronger than before. “Leave me alone, please,” she whispered. She repeated the plea the entire drive home. She ran into her building and hurried to her apartment. As soon as she closed and locked the door, frost began to coat her windows. What the hell was happening? She stood frozen, the fear instantly turning into terror. She dropped to her knees and raked her fingers up her scalp. “What do you want? Please, leave me alone. Please!” The feeling of cold hands came back. An icy finger slid down her cheek and raised her face up. Frozen lips kissed her as the icy fingers trailed down her body, leaving an artic trail as they caressed her gently. The unseen touch became more intense—as terrifying as it was thrilling. Her nipples puckered and tightened, rubbing against the rough material of her lace bra. An invisible hand
snaked to her legs and was prodding them apart. Desire spread through her and she arched against nothing. Nothing… “Stop,” she cried and pushed at the frosty air. There was nothing there, but still the pressure from the invisible force wouldn’t release her. “Stop!” The feeling slowly moved away and she shoved off the floor. Terror filled her as she watched letters appear in the frost on the window in front of her. M-a-r-i-n-s-k-a. She wrestled with the doorknob, desperately trying to open it. The latch refused to release. She was trapped. Trapped by the unseen force that repeatedly wrote the word Marinska in the frost. It spread from one window to the other until all the glass in the front room was covered with the word. “What is Marinska?” It was a name, wasn’t it? “Who are you? Please! Why won’t you leave me alone?” .The word continued to be scrawled into the frost. Her heart pounded so loudly in her ears it was driving her crazy. “Stop,” she screamed over and over again. Once more, the air grew heavy and she couldn’t move. There was something touching her. Icy fingers trailing on her skin again. Hands groped at her. Lips pressed against her ear. Even the feel of teeth nipping at her neck. Her heart slammed into overdrive. The pounding grew louder and more intense, seeming to echo throughout the apartment. “Stop it,” she shrieked, struggling for escape. She lost her balance and staggered backward into a wall of frosty air. “Allana? Allana, open the door!” She spun trying to find her bearings. “Who’s there? Please leave me alone. Leave me alone!” Her screams didn’t drown out the pounding on the door. The room became colder. How much colder can it get? “Leave me alone!” “Allana? Open the door. Allana?” Haze lifted from her brain. Was that Tom’s voice? She reached for the doorknob again, twisting and turning, but it wouldn’t open. “I can’t. I can’t get it opened. Help me.”
Tom threw his weight against it. She strained, twisted, and pulled, but her hand only slid around the brass knob. She couldn’t get a good grip. “I can’t. It won’t open. I can’t get out. Help me, Tom. Please! Help me!” With a loud crash, the door broke open and Tom grabbed her in his arms.
Tom held her. She was shivering, from the fear or from the… cold? The room was as cold as a meat locker. Behind her, he saw frost on her windows. Frost? In May? There was something scrawled into the ice on the windows. Marinska? “Come on,” He pulled her close and led her from the room. “It’s going to be all right. Come on.” She clung to him. Her tears soaked into the cotton of his tee shirt. She was almost limp as she leaned into his chest. “I just don’t understand what is happening to me.” He sat on the steps and pulled her into his lap. The bruises and lumps from his fall protested, but he repositioned and held her tight. “Tell me.” “It’s my fault they died. It’s my fault you were nearly killed.” “Who died? How is it your fault?” She sniffed. “Every man I’ve ever loved has died. My first fiancée. He and I were messing around in a creek and he drowned.” Tom stroked her hair. “Hey, it was an accident.” “He drowned in two feet of water. He had been there all day long with me. As soon as I said I’d marry him, he drowned.” She trembled in his arms and he tried to hold her even closer. “Allana, you can’t blame yourself for an accident like that.” “If it had only been one, maybe I wouldn’t. Then there was my boyfriend in college. We were getting so close. I was as in love with him as he was with me. He died. Burned to death in his dorm room.” Two deaths? “Allana. You can’t believe you did something.” She nodded and pulled back from him. Her green eyes were filled with such sadness, such pain he wanted to erase it all. She brushed a tear from under her eye. “My last boyfriend? He had a bad car wreck. He called to say he was on his way over. Then, he told me he loved me.” Sobs wracked her body. “He
died. It was so horrible. The car just went out of control and he… he… hit a speed limit sign and it slammed into his windshield. It—cut off his head.” God. “It still doesn’t make it your fault.” “I’m cursed. Don’t you see that? I’m cursed or haunted or something. They all died and then the day you talked to me, just talked to me, you fall down the steps and almost broke your neck. On top of it all, a statue falls and almost kills you. I tried to call and tell you not to come. I wish I would’ve.” He was at a complete loss. What could he say? Haunted. No way. It didn’t happen. Curses weren’t real. But from the way she was acting, he should run far and fast. There was something off balance here. Why would her apartment be so cold? Did she have her air set so high that the windows frosted? What about the word scribbled into the thin sheet of ice? One look at her killed the urge to run away. Pain, desperation, and terror mingled together in the tears pooling in her eyes. She needed him and he wasn’t going anywhere. “Allana. There is no way you’re cursed. There’s no such thing as curses or hauntings or ghosts or whatever you think it is you have. I’ll prove it to you. I’m taking you to dinner, and dancing,” he moved and winced from the pain. “Maybe not dancing. But we’re going to go out and you’re going to have fun. You’re going to see that I’m fine.” Her eyes brightened slightly then dimmed once more. “It’s insane. Who knows what would happen to you? I can’t let you take that kind of chance.” He slid his hand up her cheek and traced her lips. Since the first time he saw her walking down the hall at their building, he wondered what she was like. He had a fantasy that grew with each time they passed. Her perfume would hang in the air and linger with him all day long. The occasions she smiled, the room lit up. And since the first time they spoke, he had wanted to kiss her. He laced his fingers in her hair and pulled her face in close, capturing her lips. Her kiss sent electric shocks into him. She was so soft, so warm. When he leaned back and gazed into her eyes, he was caught. “I’ll risk it.” His rival was holding her. Kissing her. Damn the man. Vlad paced away from Marinska and back again. She loved him. Beyond death, she swore it to him. Now here she was in the arms of another man.
Anger surged through him. “No,” he roared and the lamp near her sofa fell and crashed to the floor. She jerked her attention back to the room and she stared in fear at the shattered glass under his feet. She may not see him, but she could feel him and she could hear him. He would get through to her. She would soon see, and feel him. There had to be a way. “You are mine Marinska. Forever.”
Chapter Fourteen
Tom’s assurances made her want to believe. So far they’d made it from her apartment to the restaurant with no tragedy. Would it stay that way? Tom’s hand on her shoulder was so soothing, so comforting, that for a few snatched seconds, she felt like a normal woman on a real date. Then unease draped around her, pushing down as if it were a physical presence. She sat across the table from Tom. He was talking to her, his voice floated around her, but she couldn’t concentrate in his words. It was hard focusing on anything but watching out for any sign of trouble. Please, please, please, let me have a real life. “Allana?” She looked up. “I’m sorry, Tom. I just can’t… I’m really scared something bad is going to happen.” A soft smile crossed his lips and he reached across the table for her hand. “Stop obsessing and relax. So far we’re doing fine, right?” His fingers covered hers. There was comfort in his gentle touch. “I just can’t stop worrying. This thing has always been so strange. I’ve never been hurt, I’ve never felt threatened but I destroy everyone around me. So many times I get this cold chill and I know there is some thing watching me. It follows me everywhere.” “Do you feel it now?” You’ve been lucky so far. “No, thank God. It’ll come back, I know it will and I just don’t know how much longer I can take it. I need to go away. Maybe become a hermit up in a cave somewhere so I don’t ruin anymore lives.” Tom squeezed her hand. “You can’t do that. Curses can be broken.” “You said there was no such thing as a curse.” He didn’t believe she was the cause of so many “accidents”. It showed in his face. You won’t be so skeptical when it happens to you. “I think you ought to just take me home. I’m tired.” He still hadn’t released her hand. He just sat and stared at her. “I don’t think I should.”
“What? Do you have a death wish or something? Are you just a nut job who has me where he wants me?” “I don’t have a death wish and I’m not a head case, but I do want to keep you with me for a while longer. But more importantly, after what happened, are you sure you want to go back there?” The cold, the word scrawled all over her apartment, the assault on her senses, and the way her body reacted to the invisible and erotic caresses were enough to rush the terror through her once more. I don’t know if I can. “I have to. I have nowhere else to go. Besides I’ve got to deal with this, don’t I?” She lifted her glass to her mouth. “You could come and stay with me.” She choked on the drink and coughed hard. It took a few minutes for the breath to come. “I don’t know you well enough to go home with you.” “I didn’t say sleep with me. I said come home with me. I have a spare room. The door locks if you’re worried about that.” Go home with him? Could she really do it? At her home, there was the fear of the nightmare starting all over again. But going home with him held its own set of dangers. “It’s not a good idea. Something might happen and I can’t stand the thought of causing you anymore pain.” She looked down at her plate and pushed the food around. The enchiladas didn’t even look appetizing. “I could just kidnap you.” She jerked up to look at him. “Excuse me?” “Not in psycho sort of way. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.” “I don’t understand why you care. I’m a complete stranger.” I can’t explain it to myself, how can I explain it to you. “I guess you can say chivalry isn’t dead.” He lightly banged on his chest. “Me man. Me protect you.” Her laugh was soft and a smiled remained on her lips. “I guess I better watch out for clubs.” I hope I won’t need one. “The ones for dancing and drinking, or the wooden ones?” “Both.”
For a few moments she seemed happy, lighthearted and the anxious look in her eyes had faded. Now it was seeping back in. “Don’t do that,” he whispered. “What?” “Don’t let it hurt you this way. Let me help you.” “I don’t know if you can. Are you an exorcist or gypsy?” “I really don’t believe in all this paranormal stuff.” A mask of disappointment slid over her face. He shook his head. “I’m not saying that something didn’t happen in your apartment. I saw it. What I’m saying is there has to be some sort of rational explanation for it.” She sighed. “Fine. You find me one and I’ll be happy to stop feeling so scared all the time.” How could he explain it? “The deaths of your friends were terrible accidents, nothing more. Did you hold what’s-his-name under the water? Did you set the fire at the dorm? Did you force the guy off the road? Did you shove me down the steps? I know those deaths were traumatic for you, but you can’t blame yourself.” She picked up her napkin and began wringing it. “I know it was because of me. But I’ll humor you. I didn’t kill them. How do you explain the frost on my windows? How do explain the lamp crashing to the floor?” She needed answers that he wasn’t able to give. Not in the span of an hour and a half. “Look Allana, I don’t know. I can’t explain it all. What I do know is that you’re freaked out right now and I know that going back to your apartment alone scares you. So come with me and at least get one good night’s sleep.” She didn’t say anything, only continued to wring her napkin and stare off into space. He leaned forward. “Allana?” He watched as gooseflesh rose on her arms. She shivered violently and her face paled. “Oh my God, it’s coming again,” she hissed and jerked away from him. “I have to leave. Right now.” She shoved away from the table and hurried to the door. “Wait, Allana,” he called and raced after her. Just outside the door an employee of the restaurant stopped him. “Forget to pay?” He looked into the woman’s eyes as he reached for his wallet. “Here,” he tossed his credit card at her. “I’ll be back for it later.”
He ran into the lot. How had Allana disappeared so fast? He rushed down the sidewalk, first one way and then back up the other, searching the busy street. “Allana?” he called but it was useless. She apparently wasn’t even in hearing distance. It was coming again? What was coming? He maneuvered around a couple. “Bastard,” an invisible European accented voice whispered in his ear. He recognized that whispered voice. It was the one he’d heard right before he fell down the steps. Suddenly, his foot slipped. He teetered on the edge of the curb and the sound of a horn preceded the hard rush of air from the passing truck. He slammed himself against a wall of the restaurant. Damn that had been close. They died because I loved them. They died horrible painful deaths. It’s my fault. I killed them. He words. Her haunted eyes. Her palpable fear. It played like a song on a loop. It was all a strange coincidence but that’s all it was. Is it? The question popped into his brain. Three men, who spent time with her, fell in love with her, died. He had spoken to her and nearly been killed. He just had dinner with her and was almost hit by a truck. “It’s completely ridiculous,” he shouted and pulled away from the wall. Three men, dead. That damn voice. She hadn’t been there when he fell. Where had she been when the statue fell? “Stop it,” he muttered, earning a couple of questioning looks from passers by. She wasn’t beside him when he slipped off the curb just now. He started to take off for her place when he remembered his credit card. “Damn.” They probably already had his number and it wouldn’t be long before he was slammed with fraudulent claims. “Damn,” he said again. He went back into the restaurant and walked to the greeter. “I told you I’d be back.” She nodded and handed him a bill wallet containing the receipt for him to sign and his card. He jotted his name and passed the leather rectangle back to her. “Happy shopping.” She shot him a funny look but he didn’t bother to acknowledge it. He had to get back to Allana. Why? Because Allana needed someone to help her out. Someone. Why does it have to be you? “Good question.” The look of terror in her eyes when he got into her apartment. The uncontrollable shivering when the lamp crashed to the floor on its own. Poltergeist? Absurd. That would be a paranormal thing, right? Besides, even if he did believe in all that ghost nonsense
wasn’t a poltergeist what haunted adolescent children? He still hunted for a logical answer as he sped down the road toward her apartment building. Vlad fumed. How dare that man try to get Marinska into his home, into his bed? The quick death that had been so close when that truck whizzed by Tom’s face was too easy. No. This man was going to have to suffer long for his affront. There was only one way to induce the suffering called for. Vlad grinned. Impalement. The most delightful form of torture ever devised. The screams elicited from the stakes were music to his ears. Tom on a pike would be a most beautiful sight indeed. Now he only had to work out how… a sudden thought filled his mind. There was a way to physically get close to Marinska. The answer was staring him in the face. It would be difficult for him, but he could manage it. She would soon be back in his arms for good.
Chapter Fifteen
Thanks to the hard run from the restaurant Allana was panting hard as she slammed into her apartment. Not the wisest of choices considering all that happened only a few short hours ago. She needed to grab a few things before she left and tried to find a new place to lose herself in. Her sister’s family had moved to Chicago three years ago. Three years since they’d seen each other. Alyz stopped calling as much after the first seven times Allana turned down the invitation to come visit. There had been an offer to help her find a job. The description of the windy city’s perks were extolled in an attempt to lure Allana to come. None of it appealed to her before. Maybe now was the time to head north. Would the evil follow her? The only family she had left was her sister Alyze, her brotherin-law George and Cheyenne, a niece that Allana had never even met. She’d made sure to keep a good distance between them for their own sakes. No. If she moved close to them the fear of their injury, their death, would drive her insane. “What the hell am I going to do?” How many times had she asked that same question? It seemed as if this was a never-ending nightmare. Like a bad movie that would never stop playing in her brain. The windows were no longer frost covered. Marinska. What did it mean? It was a name, that much she knew. Some kind of eastern thing, wasn’t it? Aside from the actress on television Allana had heard the name somewhere before. But where? She dropped on her sofa and lay back into the pillows. She closed her eyes and emptied her mind. A relaxation technique she’d learned from her old psychiatrist. She needed a good exorcist. Did priests even come to the aid of non-Catholics? Maybe a spiritual cleanser or a ghost buster? She chuckled at the absurd thought. A vision of three men in coveralls over taking her small apartment with boxes, bags and assorted gadgets in an attempt to catch her ghost popped into her mind.
Her ghost. The laughter immediately shriveled and died. Her ghost was a killer. Since when did you decide it was a ghost? Since Marinska was traced into the frost on her window. How do you find whom or what is haunting you? Once you find it, how do you kill something that is already dead? Ouija boards were reputed to help you speak to the dead. They had also been blamed for the releasing of malevolent spirits into the world. If she was going as far as to believe in being haunted, was it a stretch to believe it was possible for this doorway thing backfire? You bet your sweet bippy. It was time to get her life back. To remove the curse. To find happiness. “Right. Easier said than done.” Tom had offered her the security of his place. It seemed as if he was willing to tempt fate just to be with her. Why? She pushed the question away. There were other, more important things to worry about. How to save herself was the top of the list. A Ouija board had to be the answer. A knock on her door sent her jumping. “Allana? Allana are you in there?” Tom. Sweet, loveable, sexy Tom. Maybe if she kept quiet he’d go away. No matter how much she wanted him it wasn’t time yet. Would it ever be? “Allana? Please let me in. I just want to talk. I want to make sure you’re okay.” Don’t answer him. Don’t answer him. Don’t answer him. “Allana, I’m not going away until you tell me you’re all right.” Damn. “Hang on Tom.” She went to the door and placed her hand on the knob. For a minute, she couldn’t make herself open it. Finally she pulled it open and stood staring at him. “Tom, I don’t want to see you. I just need to be alone.” “Allana let me help.” He moved into the room and reached out for her. She sighed. It might be nice to have someone to lean on. She placed her hand in his. “All right. I’ve got to do something that I know you’re probably going to think is a little off.” He continued to watch her face. He waited for a few moments longer. “What?” “I’m going to try a Ouija board.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “A what board?” “Ouija. It should help me communicate with the ghost who is making my life hell.” He pulled her close. “If it’ll give you peace of mind lets do it.” She was surprised. “You’re going to be here?”
He nodded. “Can’t very well let you dabble with demons alone.” Demon. That was pretty accurate. “I need to get one.” “A demon?” he asked with a grin. “Ouija board.” “Right. That was my next guess. Is there a shop or coven or somewhere you get one of those things?” “Actually they are sold at most stores. In the toy section no less.” “For the kid who needs an invisible friend?” he chuckled. “If you’re not going to be serious…” She moved away from him. He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I promise. You just have to realize this is hard for me to accept.” “You think it’s easy for me?” She shook her head. “I’ll get one first thing in the morning. Thanks Tom. Good night.” Tom couldn’t stop staring at her. A Ouija board? Ghosts? Curses? He shook his head lightly. “Good night?” He studied her face. Her fear was still worn like a mask. “I’m not leaving you alone here.” “What?” “I said I’m not leaving.” He closed the door behind him and moved further into the apartment. “Something scared you. You were alone here and I’m not going to let you face whatever it is alone again.” She backed away from him. “But you can’t stay here.” “Why not? I’m not going to pounce on you.” He extended his index finger and traced an “x” over his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” She blanched. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He realized what he said and reached out to take her in his arms. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sack out here on your sofa and you won’t even know I’m here, unless you need me.” He could tell she was going to argue again. “Stop. I’m staying. Period. End of discussion.” “I don’t know if your stubborn, stupid, or a little of each.” He chuckled. “Stubborn. My momma didn’t raise no ijit.” She graced him with another one of her smiles, but the sadness still hung on the edges. “Get some rest Allana. I’ll be right here.”
She looked dubious, but finally shrugged her shoulders in surrender and turned to disappear through a door at the end of the hall. Tom kicked off his shoes, pulled off his shirt and dropped on the couch. He took a few minutes to look around the small apartment. The broken lamp still lay in pieces by the side of the table. Shaking his head, he pulled his shoes back on and went in search of something to clean the glass up with. Finding a garbage bin in the corner of the small kitchen, he took it into the living room. Though his muscles protested, he bent down and began picking up what was left of the lamp. Fortunately, most of it had broken into large pieces rather than small shards. Anger strong and fierce flooded Vlad. The man had still managed to worm his way into staying the night with Marinska. The gall! The nerve! Vlad heaved and shoved Tom backward. The garbage can flew from his hands. Broken glass and trash scattered around the room. He gathered the glass and carried it over to Tom. He used the sharp edges to carve deep cuts into the man’s chest. Blood flowed easily from the wounds and Vlad’s force surged. He’d never been this powerful. Not since his death all those centuries ago. With each interloper he grew more powerful but with Tom’s invasion he was stronger than ever before. The power was intoxicating. He continued to cut and peel the flesh from Tom’s chest, relishing in the cries of pain filling the room. The screams that joined Tom’s cries of pain made Vlad freeze his actions. Marinska stood in the hallway, her face deathly white. He dropped the shards and moved to her. The moment he reached her side, she trembled from his icy spirit. Even though she and Tom couldn’t see him, they knew he was there. There was no denying his presence now. Vlad wouldn’t harm Tom any more tonight. He needed Tom. If all went as planned, he would have what he waited ages for. Marinska warm in his arms. Forever.
Chapter Sixteen
Allana stood and stared at Tom. He was a mass of bloody cuts and deep gashes. “Tom!” She ran to help him up, guiding him to sit on the sofa. Then she turned and hurried to get wet rags to place on his wounds. “What happened?” she asked as she knelt beside him and began to carefully wipe away the blood. “Damned if I know,” he gritted out. “I was cleaning… son of a bitch,” pain etched his words. “I’m so sorry, Tom.” He laid his head back on the sofa. Sweat beaded his brow and his eyes slid closed. “One minute I’m picking up the broken glass the next I’m falling and the glass is all over me. Cutting me to shreds.” “I saw…” she could only whisper. It hadn’t seemed real. The glass had been suspended in air as it sliced through Tom’s body. “It was just…” He moaned in misery as she continued wiping him down. “You need stitches.” His body was a mass of purple, green and black bruises. “From when you fell,” she said quietly and traced the outline of one of the darker bruises. She refocused on the wicked slashes covering him. “You need stitches,” she said again and pushed up away from him. He scrubbed his hands down his cheeks and chin. “It hurts like hell. I still don’t know what happened.” “I do,” Allana muttered. “What? What happened?” She shook her head. “The ghost. I watched it holding the glass. You can’t tell me you didn’t see it.” He didn’t say anything. He wanted to deny it. He looked as if he would. “I don’t know. How can I go to the ER for stitches? ‘How did this happen?’ ‘Some demonic ghost thing.’ They won’t just give me stitches. They’ll lock me up.”
At least he was acknowledging the fact that it was something beyond explanation. “We’ll think of something to say, but you’ve got to have someone care for these injuries.” He groaned. “Yeah. I guess so.” Allana stood and offered all her strength to helping Tom stand. He winced and tried to stifle his groan. She let him lean on her down the stairs and out to her car. She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t in any shape to speak anyway. She settled him into the car and hurried to the driver’s side. She could imagine the look on the ER staff’s face as she and Tom tried to explain what happened to him. Two trips to the ER in a little more than forty-eight hours. She shook her head and mentally cursed the thing that had placed the black cloud over her life. It was a ghost, or an evil spirit or something. That precluded David. All her nightmares began with his death and on some level she had suspected it was him haunting her. But the demonic presence couldn’t possibly be David. He was, or had been, too good of a man. Since this all started before Michael, it couldn’t have been him. It wasn’t Whit. So, who hated her enough to come back from the dead to destroy any happiness she may have found in life? They arrived at the emergency room and she quickly parked before helping him out. Tom leaned heavily against her on the short walk inside. The amount of blood on Tom’s shirt and on the rag she used to stem the bleeding was enough to put him in the priority of the busy department. A nurse came over, loaded him into a wheel chair and then disappeared down a long hallway with him. Should she have gone with him? Should she leave him here alone? No, she couldn’t do that. Leaving him like that would just be wrong. But once she got him home, she’d send him packing and then do the packing she should’ve done before. Tom sat on the hard cot in the examine room and gritted his teeth against the pain. For a heartbeat, he was tempted to blame all his pain on Allana. He’d been living a perfectly happy existence before he bothered with her. That was ridiculous. To blame her? How idiotic. She wasn’t in the room, hadn’t been around for any of his accidents. Accidents? She had been so sure that it was something attached to her that caused the deaths, but he’d been just as convinced that this supernatural crap wasn’t real.
How else could he explain what was happening to him? To Allana? How could he explain the voice that warned him to stay away from her? Or the same voice he heard just before he was almost an asphalt pancake? How else did he explain the feel of that hand pressing him down while the glass mysteriously moved itself and sliced him to ribbons? If there was something haunting her, something hurting her, and he was going to find what it was and get rid of it. Period. He may have been joking earlier about being all possessing male, but the protector gene was strong inside him. A doctor entered the room. “Mr. Haugan?” Tom nodded. “Hey.” The doctor walked to his side and pressed Tom down into the mattress with a gentle touch. After Tom had reclined the doctor began prodding and examining both the cuts and the older bruises. “Been in a fight?” “You could say that,” Tom muttered. “I fell down a flight of steps the other day. Then today I broke a lamp.” Tom groaned. He probably looked like he’d been rolling in the broken glass. “I see,” the doctor’s tone was skeptical. “Just stitch what needs sewing and let me get out of here. I’ve got to get home.” “Mr. Haugan if there’s some kind of problem—” “The only problem is I need to get out of here. She needs me.” The doctor opened his mouth then clamped it shut. “I’ll get the nurse in here. We’ll clean this up and do the sutures. Be right back.” The doctor retreated from the room and in the frosted glass window Tom could watch the man’s silhouette moving away from the door. It seemed to take forever for the man to come back. When the door finally opened again the he came in followed closely by a nurse. Almost an hour and nearly one hundred stitches later, Tom pulled on his bloody and torn shirt, accepted the prescription for antibiotics and the follow up care sheets then he headed to the waiting area. Allana was sitting there, her head slanted to the side. She had managed to fall asleep in the miserably uncomfortable chair. She looked peaceful finally. He hated to disturb her, but there was no help for it. He was in no shape to pick her up and carry her. He reached over and shook her gently. “Allana?”
“What?” She jerked up, her hand flying and nearly hit him in the jaw. “Tom? Oh, I’m sorry Tom. What happened?” He shrugged and tried to keep his discomfort from showing. “No big deal. A few stitches and I’m good as new.” He shifted and winced at the burning sensation that seared up his side. “You don’t look fine.” “You look tired. Let’s get out of here.” She didn’t argue as he led her through the doors into the night. Vlad hovered over head watching Tom with his arm around Marinska. She looked completely exhausted and he felt a twinge of guilt. He was the cause of her distress. He then looked at Tom again. No. It was that man’s fault. Soon his time would come. Vlad went ahead to Marinska’s home to wait for her return. But when she came in, she wasn’t alone. Tom was still with her. Vlad watched as she fretted around the room. “Tom, you should’ve let me take you home.” “My car’s here. Besides I don’t think either of us need to be alone tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll get that board thing and get rid of your demon. Permanently.” Vlad grinned. One of them would be leaving and it wouldn’t be him.
Chapter Seventeen
Allana couldn’t force herself back to sleep. Tom was still in the apartment. If only she had been stronger, more forceful with him. Though, if she were completely honest with herself, having him in just the other room did make her feel safer. Well maybe safer wasn’t quite right. Just knowing she wasn’t going to have to face this alone any longer gave her courage and selfconfidence began to grow. He believed her about this ghost. What was more, he was willing to help her get rid of it. The sun peaked in around the black throw that she had tacked up over the bedroom window. She stood up, grabbed an old robe and went to the living room. Poor Tom. He was so miserable. His face was bruised. His mouth was set in a line of pain, even in sleep. She slipped to the kitchen as quietly as she could to grab a bottle of soda and a yogurt from the fridge. Then she turned to tiptoe back to the bedroom. Tom was sitting up on the sofa there watching her closely. “How’d you sleep?” she asked, approaching his side. He stretched and flinched at the action. “Not bad. You?” “Liar,” she lightly tapped his chest. “I didn’t.” “I guess not. When do want to go and get that weed-ya board.” She grinned. “How hard is it to remember Ouija?” “Whatever.” “I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Want some breakfast first?” He shook his head. “I just want to get this over with.” She wasn’t sure how to interpret his tone. “You think this is fun for me?” She was growing angry. “I wish whatever it is had never happened, but it did. I want this over too. More than you could imagine. And I never asked you to be here. Did I? Haven’t I been saying all along that you should leave? Haven’t I warned you time and again to stay away from me?”
He lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry Allana. I didn’t mean to upset you. I can only imagine how hard this is on you. I know you want it over. I just don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to do.” “Go home, Tom. I’ll take care of this myself.” She tried to usher him to the door but he was as immoveable as a mountain. “I’m in this for the duration. I’ve never believed in this kind of stuff, but I’m rapidly learning it’s real. Besides,” he once more bent his arm like he was going to bang on his chest. His movement was stiff and his hand never made contact, but he shook his fist in the air lightly. “Me man. Me protect you.” “But who’s going to protect you?” “Get ready,” he said softly. She nodded and was changed faster than she’d ever done before. He walked to the door and opened it waiting for her to walk out. She stepped into the hall and pulled the door shut behind them. He took her hand and tucked it tightly into his. Her hands were like ice. She stopped and looked up into his face. “Thank you.” “What for?” “Not laughing at me. Being willing to hold my hand while I do this.” “Yeah well, I’ve never done this sort of thing before.” “Me neither.” He nodded and began to walk outside. Down in the lot, he unlocked his car and opened the door for her. Once more she looked up. “Manners? How refreshing.” He grinned. “My mother drummed the gentleman into me.” “Good for her.” She slid inside and waited for him. He bent to slide into the car and fresh fires of ripping flesh shredded him. He had to blink at the tears the pain caused. He steeled his will and got in. “So where do I go?” She watched his face and looked as if she’d change her mind about letting him help her. “Tell me where to go.” “Tom, I…”
“Hell of an open door I gave you,” he forced the laugh. If he didn’t try to lighten this up, he wasn’t sure he could handle whatever came next. “There’s a toy store down the road a bit.” He nodded and set off. A cold chill crept up his arm and he glanced sidelong at Allana. She shivered lightly, but stiffened her spine against it. He kept quiet and the cold feeling lingered. It was as if someone were puffing an icy breath against his neck. He reached up and scrubbed at the spot trying to make the sensation disappear. He pulled into the toy store lot and grabbed a parking spot. She waited for him to come over to her side and help her out. “Thanks.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She started to slide it away but he refused to relinquish his hold. Her hand felt so good in his. A perfect fit. The cuts and stitches burned and throbbed and his injured muscles were screaming at him, but he kept moving, right by her side. Inside the store, she walked silently from aisle to aisle. She found what she was looking for in the board game section. She picked it up and he gave it a once over while she held it up. It looked like any other board game box. What made this so special? The belief that it actually worked probably. After everything, you still doubt? He began to pull his wallet from his back pocket but she put her hand on his arm and shook her head slightly before paying for the board. Soon they were on the way back to her apartment. What thoughts were whirling in her mind? What the hell am I doing here anyway? Another glance at her and he knew the answer. The chivalry his mother pounded into him was ordering him to rescue the poor woman. He was the white knight type. No matter what the reward or consequences, he’d always been the one who rode in and tried to right the wrong. He parked in her lot and walked silently along side her. The apartment was several degrees cooler. She shivered and this time, his goose flesh rose as high as hers. He inhaled a deep breath and shut the door. It feels like the closing of a crypt he thought morbidly. She walked over to the table and took the board out of the box. “So basically what we do is place the placard on the board, put our finger tips on it and ask questions. The spirits are supposed to answer us.” This was absolutely ridiculous. “And if they don’t answer?” Her face fell. “Then I guess I have to find an exorcist or a gypsy or something.” He sat down across the table from her. “Let the negotiations begin.”
She frowned and he was drawn to how beautiful her lips were. “Please be serious, will you?” She had chastised him like a child. “What’s the hole in the center for?” “That’s how we know which letter is being selected,” she said with a matter of fact tone. “Right. I should’ve known that.” “Steady your hand and don’t put too much pressure on the piece.” He nodded and let his tips rest gently on the plastic. She closed her eyes in concentration. “Are there any spirits out there who would like to communicate with us?” Silence. Of course. “Please. I need to know if the one who has been ruining my life is out there.” There was still no reaction. “Maybe we should—“ Her look silenced any thing he might have wanted to say. “Please. Just tell me if you’re there.” When nothing happened this time she lifted her fingers from the pointer and he did the same. Her eyes were filled with sadness. “I’m sorry.” “I was so sure. Are you—a?" The plastic moved on its own accord. The word yes was in the center hole. His head jerked up. All the blood had drained from her face. “Allana?” She didn’t say a word just slumped in the seat. He jumped up, the chair clattering on the floor behind him. He grabbed her in his arms. “Allana?” he patted her cheeks. She wasn’t responding. He lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. He knelt down beside her and, as he stroked her forehead, a cold breeze glanced over his body and filled his soul. This was just what he was waiting for. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted him to come to her. Vlad hovered near the table as she asked if he was there. He hadn’t moved the little object in her hand while their fingertips were on it. He wanted to wait so that when it moved she knew without a doubt he was there. He placed the plastic piece on yes. When she fainted, he wanted to be the one to clutch her close. Vlad needed to feel her. He needed to be close to her. He hovered over the top of Tom. It is time Beloved. He settled into Tom’s body as easily as
slipping into a robe. Instantly Vlad could feel her warm skin under his hand. Her soft breath puffed onto his cheek. “My darling.”
Chapter Eighteen
Allana shifted. My darling? Is that what Tom had said? She forced her eyes open and glanced up into his face. She couldn’t interpret the look that flickered in his eyes. My darling? She wondered again. “Tom?” He raised her shoulders up and sat on the sofa, then lowered her head into his lap. “Are you all right? You had a terrible fright.” “Fright? Yeah, that’s putting it mildly. How the hell did it move like that?” “Perhaps your ghostly friend wanted to let you know he is there and that he adores you.” Was he joking? He didn’t seem to take her seriously before, why would he be serious now? “I don’t want him to be here.” For a second what looked like pain flashed across his face. “Have you ever thought that the reason for the presence in your life is that he was once your lover? He once thought of you as his reason for rising in the morning? That you were the very breath of life in his body?” “What the hell are you talking about?” She studied his face close. His eyes seemed different. They had darkened. She blinked once and then twice. They weren’t amber anymore, but were dark, almost black. She tried to sit up, but he held her in his lap with a gentle yet firm touch. “Ma…my darling. There are so many things in this life that cannot be explained away by logic. There are always mysteries left to unravel. Questions left unanswered. Love that surpasses time.” He was freaking her out. She pulled a little harder and this time he released her. “Look, Tom. I know that this whole thing has been a hard pill for you to swallow. I’m tired and I just want to rest. Maybe you should go home.” “I hate to leave you, dearest.” Dearest? Darling? She pushed up from the sofa and walked around it. “Tom, we need to get something clear here. I’m not your dearest, or your darling. I really love that you want to help me. I love the fact that you seem to care. But please. After all I’ve told you, all I’ve explained, I think this ‘darling’ thing has got to stop.”
He rose and she barely noted how graceful, how fluid the movements were. How had he managed to move like that when his body was covered with bruises, slices and stitches? He stepped to her side and cupped her chin in his hand. “I am here because I love you.” His admission sent shock waves reverberating into her soul. She pulled back and stared at him. “Have you lost your mind?” She waited for the cold to coat her. It didn’t happen. She backed away from him. “You don’t know me enough to love me. You can’t love me. Take it back,” she hissed. He would die. Painfully. Horribly. He closed the distance between them in a single step. “I do know you well enough to love you. I will not take it back.” He took her face in his hand. “I am not afraid of loving you.” “Please leave.” She was pushing him away. It would take time and patience to win her back. Now that he had form, substance, he would be able to work on her heart. He pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. They were so warm. Just as they had been in their life before. He deepened the kiss, transferring all his love and desire for her through her lips. He needed to feel every inch of her. The touches he’d given before had only made it miserable on both of them. Now his touch wouldn’t be icy, and he would be able to enjoy the warmth of her silky skin. He skimmed down her chest and grasped her breast through the material of the shirt she wore. His need surged, and for the first time centuries, he could feel the throb of the erection. He needed to impale her with his body. He guided their steps and he pressed her against a wall. He pinned her back and moved one knee to force her legs apart. She was capitulating to his desires, but it wasn’t completely her will. Bastard! Tom’s voice rang in Vlad’s mind. “Please Tom, please,” Marinska begged and struggled against him. Vlad forced himself to pull away. “I will leave you for this night, but I will return.” He walked out the door and down the hall. Outside of the building the air was warm. Warm. He was able to feel for the first time in centuries. Warm air. Hard pavement. Rough textured walls. Soft skin of his Marinska. “Leave her alone,” the voice roared in his head.
Tom was still a part of this body. How long would it take to purge the being completely? How hard would he have to work before Tom was gone forever? “Be silent. She will soon be mine once again. You will be but a wisp of a memory. A fleeting moment in time.” “You son of a bitch. Get out of my body.” Vlad placed his hands to his temples. “You must be silent. I can leave you if I so choose. But you wouldn’t like the manner of my exit.” “What do you mean?” “The only way to rid your shell of me is for you to die. How do you think my darling Marinska would feel having to watch yet another man she cared for meet his demise?” “You bastard.” “Be silent. Killing you would not trouble me in the slightest.” “You’d put Allana through that pain again?” “I will do whatever it takes to have Marinska by my side once again.”
Chapter Nineteen
Allana stood beside the table and looked down at the Ouija board. The placard had moved. She saw it. Tom saw it. Unable to resist the pull, Allana sat down at touched her fingertips to the pointer. “I saw you move it. Who are you? What do you want?” Nothing happened. “Please tell me what you want so I can do it then you can leave me in peace.” Still nothing. Had the entity gone? She thought she’d rid herself of it before and it came back. “Please. Tell me what you want me to do so you and I both can have peace.” This is ridiculous. You have to stop this shit now. She swept her arm across the table, sending the board and pointer crashing to the floor. She shoved out of the chair and it too clattered to the floor. She had to find a way to fight her fear and whatever it was making her life hell. But how do you fight something you can’t see? Something you can’t understand? She paced to the window and back. The emotional upheaval over the last couple of days was taking a huge toll on her body. She sank down on the sofa and closed her eyes. She tossed fitfully on the worn cushions. The sounds of screams coming from below her. The feeling of pain, despair, heart break. She walked across the cold hard stone floor and stepped out onto a balcony. The sound of water rushing over rocks floated up to her ears. There was a mist in the middle of the lush green countryside. Promises made. They were lost. Forgotten. Broken. It was too much. Living was too hard. A man shouted. Her foot dangled. Suddenly she was falling… **** Tom couldn’t believe this had happened to him. Possession? It was the stuff movies were made of. It wasn’t real. Yet, here he stood another soul sharing his body. Who are you? The spirit that held him walked to a mirror and gazed inside. “I’m Vlad Dracula and I’ve come to regain what is rightfully mine. Marinska, my wife.” Tom was silent. Vlad Dracula? Like the vampire? He had a vision appear suddenly. People screaming in pain. Blood flowing freely. People on pikes. Vlad the Impaler.
His head was thrown back and bellow of laughter filled his mind as well as his apartment. “Vlad the Impaler. Ha! I only punished the guilty. How history has destroyed my memory.” Before Tom could argue the point his body went stiff. “No!” the agonized scream practically split his skull apart. What is it? What’s happened? “Marinska.” Vlad raced out the door. With each pounding step Tom felt the panic and fear building. I don’t understand. “I can not be too late this time.” Too late? **** Allana awoke with a start. The sensation had brought on a bout of nausea. Her body ached as if she’d been hit with a truck. Her muscles screamed and her bones crackled. Sitting up was a painful experience. Why did it hurt so badly? Her legs were nearly immoveable. Her arms weighed tons each. Her back cried in protest with each breath. “I’m loosing my mind,” her scream reverberated her windows. I can’t live like this. Never knowing what’s going on in my mind. Unable to concentrate. Unable to live a normal life. Unable to find love. Insanity. She was suffering from insanity. She forced herself to her feet and used the furniture in the room to support her as she moved to the window. Each step sent waves of pain through her. The window was only a few feet away, but just taking two steps was such agony she had to sit on the floor. She needed to end the pain. If she were gone no one else would suffer because of the curse on her life. How could she do it? Carbon monoxide? Overdose? A bullet to the brain was out. The mess left behind would be too much. She could slit her wrists in the bathtub. It would be relatively clean. You’re thinking of suicide, but you’re worried about leaving a mess? What’s wrong with you? The vision from her dream came back. It would be easy to step off the ledge. Walk up to the roof, one step and all the nightmares and pain would be over. “How the hell am I supposed to walk up steps when I can’t walk across my floor?” she asked of the empty room. If she broke out the window and jumped it wouldn’t accomplish her goal. She’d end up broken, but not dead. Her pain would only increase by two, maybe three times.
What are you going to do? Argue with yourself about it or do it? She dragged up to her feet and slowly limped her way to the door. There would be no need for a note. No one was close enough to care anyway. No one but Tom. She pushed the thought away. The front door opened with a creak and she had to stop to lean against the door jam for rest. The movement from the door to the steps was agonizingly long. She dropped onto the granite steps and began the climbing crawl up to the roof door. Frequent breaks made the two-minute trip into what seemed like half an hour. It was hard to open the heavy door and when it finally did, she felt a deep relief. It was almost over. She let the door slam behind her as she crawled across the pebbled roof. The air had a chill to it. The night was so dark. Her body continued to protest with searing pain, but she couldn’t stop now. Almost there. She grabbed the stone ledge, pulled herself up, and looked over the side. The ground was so far away. She pushed up and leaned her elbows on the barrier. All it took was a few more movements and she’d be over. She used her waist to lever her body against the ridge of cement. Then she forced into a sitting position and swung a leg over the side. It dangled free in the air. A dream, a memory sped through her mind. She stood on a stone ledge and stared down into a distant valley. The sound of the water floated up to her. One foot suspended in air. “Marinska, beloved,” a man shouted and rushed to her side. “What are you doing?” He was so close, the pain heavy in his voice. She could see him. He was tall with dark hair and angular features. His long black moustache hung straight over his lips. His black hair fell in waves down his back. His dark eyes glittered. There had been such love there. Why was it over? Why couldn’t she bear to live with him? Allana slid the other leg across the ledge. Words filled her mind, “Vlad, Beyond death my love. Beyond death.” She leaned forward… Vlad soon carried them to Allana’s apartment building and he was taking the steps to the roof two at a time. When the door opened, Tom’s heart slammed to a stop. Allana was sitting on the ledge leaning so far over she looked to fall at any moment. Allana, he cried but he knew she hadn’t heard him. Vlad was in charge.
He moved forward slowly. “Marinska, my beloved. Please take my hand.” He extended it but she didn’t seem to hear him. She won’t respond to you, but she might to me. Vlad’s indecision was wasting precious seconds. Do you want her to die? “No,” Vlad answered simply. Tom felt stronger. “Allana? What are you doing?” He edged closer. “I can’t live this way. The pain. The confusion. The insanity. I just want it to end. This curse that hangs over my head is destroying me a piece at a time every single day. This is the only way to stop it.” See what you’ve done to her? Tom reached for her hand. “Come down and inside with me. We can stop this together.” She looked up at him. The agony, the terror and the confusion in her eyes tore him apart. “Allana. Just reach out for me. Let me help you.” She sniffed. A large tear tracked down her cheek and dripped onto her shirt. “I can’t.” She leaned back over the ledge and shove free. “No!” Tom and Vlad screamed in unison.
Chapter Twenty
Allana was suspended in midair her shoulder wrenching from its socket. Tom’s hand was clamped securely around her wrist. “Let me go, Tom.” “No,” he growled and pulled at her arm. He wasn’t going to let her slip. Why? “Please, Tom, it’s better this way.” “Shut up and hang on.” He yanked harder and she was being slowly pulled back to the roof. “Just a little further, Allana.” She stopped struggling against him and started clawing at the ledge trying to find a hold. She reached the top of the ledge and he pulled her over back onto the roof. She collapsed against him. Tears of pain and anguish streaming down her cheeks. “Why Tom? Why?” “Because I can not let you go. I need you. I love you, I have loved you for many ages.” She stared into his eyes. His voice had taken on a different tone. It had a slight accent to it. His amber eyes seemed darker. Almost obsidian. His strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her to his chest. He nuzzled soft kisses into her hair. “How can you say you love me? You know what’s going to happen. You’re going to die.” “I won’t. I’m never going to leave you. Not ever. Allana, you have to know this so called curse that you believe haunts you is over. It’s gone. Stop fearing love and let me in.” He was different again. His eyes were almost amber again. His voice silky smooth. “How can I be sure?” “Trust me my love.” There it was. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Tom was shifting from personality to personality. His eyes and voice changed each time “You haven’t known me long enough to love me.” “I have waited for you all my life. I spent a lifetime searching for you. Now I have you, I will never let you go. Forever you will be mine.” The throbbing she’d felt before was nothing compared to now. Her body was even more battered and just the act of breathing caused ache. She shivered in his embrace and closed her eyes against the ripple of pain.
“I am going to take you downstairs.” He barely finished the words before he scooped her up into his arms and carried back to the apartment. He laid her on the sofa and checked her over for injury. His touch was so gentle, so soothing. When she looked in his eyes, she saw love filling his gaze. “Tom,” she began. He placed a finger across her lips. “No more talk. You need to rest. I will not leave you. I am staying right by your side.” His finger lingered and began to trace along the line of her lips. “You are so beautiful.” His face moved closer. “My love.” His lips pressed against hers, gently at first but grew to an urgent, frantic level. His tongue invaded her mouth and he swirled it around hers. His hand slid down her breast while he kissed her. His touch burned through the material and seared her skin. She wanted to fight the pull, but it wasn’t possible. She was overcome with desire for him. Despite the throbbing ache that cocooned her body, she reached up and grasped the back of his head, threading her fingers in the thick of his hair. His mouth slid down her cheek and onto her neck. His tongue didn’t stop swirling except when he nibbled at her skin. The fire of need stoked higher inside. His hand trailed up underneath her shirt and stroked her breast. Her nipple perked against his touch. She needed him. She wanted him. She pulled back far enough to allow him to pull the shirt off her body. He trailed his mouth down and took her breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled over the nipple and he sucked her gently at first and then more intense. She shifted beneath him and he positioned himself between her legs. He slid his hand down her side and a fresh fire trail burned in the wake of his touch. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband on her shorts. His kisses moved from her breast, down her stomach and his lips followed downward as he pulled her shorts off. His tongue made lazy circles on her skin. “Ah, Marinska. God Himself only knows how much I have missed the feel of you. The taste of you.” The sound of that name and the slight accent of his voice when he spoke it sent a cold chill through her. “What did you say?” His breathing was ragged and he shuddered against her body. He seemed to battle with himself and then pulled away. “Nothing, beloved. Just rest.” He pulled her head onto his lap. His fingers softly stroked her forehead. “Close your eyes and rest.”
She wanted to argue. Part of her wanted to demand an explanation for the name, but her lids were so heavy, she couldn’t find the strength to fight. There was something familiar about his body. It was both comforting and frightening. She couldn’t think. The exhaustion was just too much. He continued to soothe her head, whispering comforting words filled with love and desire. Tom relished the feel of Allana sleeping in his arms. Her kisses had fueled a flicker of desire. Even though Vlad had once more assumed control of his body, he could still feel her warmth. The way her chest rose and fell with each breath. His own soul had a spark of life. He could also sense Vlad’s love for the woman he’d lost so many centuries ago. When he concentrated he could see Vlad’s memories of the day he lost his wife. Tom could feel the pain of the loss. He almost felt pity for the other man. Man? Spirit? Demon. Damn. I don’t need your pity, Vlad responded. I have the only thing that ever mattered to me. No one, not even the soul of a simple man, will separate us again. I won’t let you have her. You have no choice. As you said, would you put her through the loss of another man again? Flashes raced like a movie projected on a screen. There was a creek. A man struggled to pull out of the water but with his invisible weight Vlad held the man under. The sounds of thrashing, the strained gurgling sound as the man slowly drowned. He also felt Vlad’s pride and pleasure over the murder. A second scene chased the other away. A man stood in a room. Smoke filled the air and the man choked. He struggled for the door as the flames licked up the walls. The fire gobbled at the carpet, racing to the man’s body. The fire attacked his clothes. The smell of burning flesh permeated everything. The anguished screams of pain were almost buried in the roar of the fire. The sound of sirens added to the mêlée. The man weakly dragged himself to the door. On the other side someone pounding, yelling that rescue was on its way. Vlad called upon all the strength his evilness could supply and he held the door while the man’s cried diminished. When the man was dead, Vlad moved from the door and it opened easily. Then there was a bright day. The car moved at a normal pace. Then the accelerator pressed down. No matter how hard the man braked, he couldn’t stop the car. The wheel jerked wildly and the man broke out in a sweat. His heart slammed in fear. “Stop, stop,” he half shouted half cried.
The car only picked up in speed then swerved sharply. Metal scraped against metal and then there was a quick slice. The man’s head flew from the window and there was a sickening splat when it connected with the pavement. Again, Vlad’s pleasure was strong. The death, the gore wasn’t enough. He craved more. You bastard. Not so. My mother and father were quite in love and quite married. Tom long to punch the man. He wanted to inflict pain but he was helplessly trapped inside his own body. He’d taken control earlier. Maybe he’d be able to find a way to take it again. He was a man watching the actions of others on a biological television screen and a wave of hopelessness crashed over him. She’s depending on you, Haugan. Pull your head out of your ass and figure something out. That was easier thought than done. How was he supposed to regain control of his body and drive out the demon’s spirit? Vlad couldn’t stop staring at his Marinska. She was so warm. Her kisses had been just as hungry as his. He would keep his vow. He wouldn’t let anything stand between them. The problem was the man in this body. Tom’s spirit had begun to weaken, but since seeing Marinska throw herself from the ledge, it had renewed strength. Vlad shifted from underneath her and rose to his feet. He bent at the waist and kissed Marinska forehead. “Beyond death, my beloved. We have loved beyond death and now we will be together forever,” he whispered. They would live out this lifetime, and the next, and whatever came after together. At his vow, Tom growled and swore. Wait until she learns the truth. Your little fantasy, her nightmare, will be over. He walked away from the couch. “Silence. I will be rid of you soon enough,” he muttered. You’re going with me. I won’t leave her alone with the likes of you. Vlad snorted in derision. “Like you can do anything to stop me.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Allana, you have to hear. Allana. You’re in danger. Can you hear me?” Tom’s voice cut through her slumber. “What?” “Shh. Don’t speak just listen to me. Things aren’t what you think they are.” Confusion whirled in a sickening centrifuge. “What things?” “Please don’t say anything. When you look at my body you see a change, right?” Allana sat up and stretched while scanning the room. “Tom?” “Shh,” he hissed again. “Where are you?” She heard him inhale but she still couldn’t see him. “I can’t… I don’t know how to explain it to you. I’m not sure where I am. I know I’m here, somewhere I just can’t figure out what’s going on. I can’t get control.” Her head began to throb. Her body was a mass of aches and pains and hearing his voice when he wasn’t there was just another pain. “Damn it, Tom, this isn’t funny.” “I’m not joking around Allana. This is serious. I’m not in my body. I mean I am sometimes but more often Vlad is. He’s getting stronger and I can’t figure out to get rid of him.” She sat still. “Tom,” she shouted. “Where are you?” He came in from the kitchen. “What is the matter?” She reached out for him. “You. Why are you trying to mess with my head?” “What are you talking about?” She brushed the tears of frustration from her eyes. “You keep me from diving off the roof just so you can push me over the edge of insanity?” He sat close to her and placed his hand on hers. “I really do not understand what you mean.” “You stand there and tell me that you aren’t in your body. That someone called Vlad is in there almost all the time. You tell me that you don’t know how to get rid of him. You make me hear your voice when you aren’t in the room, and then you deny knowing anything about it?
Sometimes when you speak you, you have some sort of accent. Then you’re back to normal voice. Sometimes your eyes are amber and other times they’re black. What are you doing? Why are you trying to push me back over the edge? Why didn’t you just let me go?” An angry glare streaked across Tom’s face. His wild gaze darted around the room. When his eyes met hers, the expression on his face was suddenly serene. “I would never try to drive you insane. I do not know why you think you are hearing these things but trust me. I am here. I love you and I will not leave you alone.” “Please stop telling me you love me,” she screeched and shoved off the sofa. “You want to die? It won’t be an easy death, Tom. God only knows what will happen to you. I’ve had a love taken by drowning. One by fire. One by decapitation. The pain with each one was so horrible I didn’t think I’d survive it. Not just because I loved them, but because I killed them.” Tom stepped behind her, placed his hands on her arms and spun her to face him. “You did not kill them. I swear you did not. It was…” She stared him in the eyes. He stared out the window beyond her. “It was what? An accident? Three of them? Three accidents? No. It was my fault.” “It was not your fault ,Marinska. God knows I hated hurting you but I had to. They had to die.” Fear almost strangled her. “You? How? You didn’t even know me before.” Recognition slammed into her. “You called me, Marinska. Why? My name is Allana Simpson.” She wrenched and strained trying to pull from his grip. He refused to relinquish his hold. He dragged her to the sofa and pushed her down. He still had his hands on her shoulders. “You have been mine for many lifetimes. Five hundred years has passed since I last held you in my arms.” His fingers began to bite into her flesh. “Please, Tom. You’re hurting me.” “Stop calling me that name,” he roared. “How can you not know me?” Rage flushed his face and fear unfurled in her gut. To ask the question terrified her, but she had to know. “Who are you?” His black eyes narrowed in fury. “I am Vlad. I am your husband.” Her head began to shake. “What? Husband? I don’t know any Vlad. How can you think you’re my husband?” His fingers gripped in tighter. “You have to remember, beloved. Remember our home, Poenari, on the Arges River. We used to stand on your stone balcony and stare at the mists that
rose over the Făgăraş Mountains. We lived, we loved, we laughed. We built a life together. United a country and ruled the land.” She shook her head harder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tom.” His eyes glittered to a point and he slapped her hard across the face. Metallic taste of blood filled her mouth as she held her cheek. He gasped and she watched the shock and pain spread across his face. “Oh Beloved. Marinska my angel, my princess.” He reached for her. She shrank away from him fear making her entire body tremble. “Please. Don’t hurt me. I’m sorry.” She searched her mind. He said his name was Vlad. “Vlad. I’m sorry. Please.” Vlad? Tom said Vlad was in his body. Tom was obviously schizophrenic. That had to be the reason he was claiming to be someone else. He was as crazy as she was. Allana. Tom’s voice called to her. She stared up at his face. The man standing before her hadn’t spoken. His face was still greif stricken. “What do you want?” “I want you to remember. Please Marinska, remember.” He sat near her but kept his hands from her body. “You and I were so much in love. Life was everything we wanted. A future of security and prosperity was ahead of us and our country. But one night you were troubled deeply. Sadness unlike any other you had ever known filled you. I came to our chambers to find you standing on the edge of your balcony. “I begged you for a reason. I tried to reach you, to save you, but I could not get a grasp on your hand. You fell to your death in the valley of the Arges. I lost you and the pieces of my heart shredded me inside. My life was worth nothing without you. There were traitors in our land. Their betrayal led to your sadness and ultimately your death. They paid with their lives. When I was taken from my life I vowed to stay here until I found your spirit once more.” What the hell was he trying to say? “I don’t… I can’t… What?” It was so hard to wrap her head around. “Our country?” “Wallachia.” “Wallachia?” He nodded. “Do you remember?” Remember? “I…” if she disagreed would he hit her again? If she lied and he knew it, would that drive him back into a rage?
Vlad was consumed with self-recrimination. He’d never struck Marinska in all of their life together. Her eyes were wide, sweat beaded her brow, her face pale and her body trembled. He saw sheer terror in her beautiful eyes. He pushed his guilt aside. He had to make her remember. “Remember the cool breezes and the clean fragrance of the lush forests surrounding our home?” She still shivered. When he took her hand in his she flinched. Her fingers were cold as the icicles that hung from the trees bent over the Arges in winter. He scrubbed them between his hands trying to warm them. She was frozen, unmoving but watching his face. He saw the moment realization dawned in her eyes. “Vlad. As in the Impaler? The son of the devil?” She jerked her hands from his and fell off the sofa in her attempt to scoot away from him. He reached for her, but she shrieked and scurried into a corner. “Marinska, damn it!” he strode to her and grabbed her up in his arms. “The Impaler? Son of the devil? Stop the lies. I was the love of your heart.” She squirmed in his grasp. “Let me go. You were cruel. Evil. Vicious. You were insane. A madness gripped your mind and you tortured innocent people. You…” He felt her heave and he released her. She ran to the bathroom and he listened as she retched up her stomach contents. He began to walk down the hall to her but paused. She should be alone until she could recover. He paced up and down the hall waiting for her to come back. You hit her. You’re not the son of the devil, you are the devil. Vlad caught his reflection in the hall mirror. He could see the wildness in his eyes. He could feel the burning in his mind. Maybe Tom was right. Maybe he really was the devil. Tom had been powerless to stop Vlad from hitting Allana. His chest burned with anger at his inability to drive the evil being from his body. He listened to Allana being ill and he longed to go to her, but he couldn’t move. Let me go to her. “No.” Vlad raged. “She is mine. Now and forever. I will not let you stand in my way. I will drive you out yet.” She’s terrified of you. Can’t you see that she wants you to leave her alone? “I would never hurt her.”
You already have. There was a definite sense of regret from Vlad. He turned to face the bathroom door. One step. Then another. Then a third. He reached out and placed his hand on the door knob. It opened and he reached out to steady Allana on her feet. Allana or was she Marinska? Fog of uncertainty filled Tom’s mind. He was having trouble focusing his thoughts. He almost seemed to have gotten control for a moment, but now he couldn’t think clearly. Allana? Despite his confusion he was certain he felt Vlad smile.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Allana rinsed out her mouth and sat on the commode. Her head was spinning wildly. Tom wasn’t Tom, he was Vlad Dracula. Vlad the Impaler. Vlad Ţepeş. A man who’d been dead for centuries. A man who was well remembered for his acts of unimaginable cruelty. A man who grieved for a wife that took her own life. Allana couldn’t blame her. Married to a maniac like Vlad would be enough to make any woman consider suicide. And he claimed to be her husband. She scrubbed her hands down her face. This was all going to be a horrible nightmare. She’d wake up in a bed somewhere and discover that none of these things had actually happened. She was still young and engaged to David. All these other things weren’t real. Her shoulder throbbed. If this wasn’t real why was the pain so tangible? “Marinska?” If he called her that once more, she’d have a high speed come apart no matter what it might cost her. She stiffened her spine and forced courage she didn’t feel before she stepped out of the bathroom. “Don’t ever call me that again,” she ground between gritted teeth. “My name is Allana Simpson. You are Tom Haugan on the verge of a psychotic break. Maybe you're schizophrenic with a twisted obsession with the Impaler. I don’t know. I don’t care. I want you out of my home, out of my life.” “If it were not for me you would not have a life,” Tom roared. “I pulled you off that ledge. I brought you back. If nothing else you owe me for saving your life.” She was dumbfounded. “Owe you? Owe you! What…” she threw her hands up in the air. “Get out. Just get the hell out.” He latched on to her hands with one of his. With the free hand he grabbed her chin and with more pressure than was comfortable turned her face to his. “Please do not do this. Do not make me have to destroy us.” The dead look in his eye froze her. “You’d—you’d kill me?”
He didn’t say a word, simply locked her gaze with his. She saw it then. He really would kill her if he didn’t get what he wanted. Play along and live or fight and die. Despite the fact she’d tried to kill herself earlier, she had a sudden realization that she wanted to live. “Help me remember. Please Vlad. Help me remember.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. “My love.” He led her back to the sofa and pulled her onto his lap then cradled her in his arms. “We first met when I was seventeen. You were the most beautiful woman I had ever set eyes on. Your dark blond hair danced in the gently breeze framing your face. Your green eyes sparkled and your laughter ready to share with everyone.” He paused and took a shuddering breath. “I had been gone for so long. I came back to take what belonged to me. My right of ascension. But you were so much on my mind. I fell in love with you the minute I saw you. When you looked into my eyes you saw good in me. You healed my hurt, soothed my mind, cooled my wrath. I needed you. There were many shocked reactions when you agreed to be my wife. My detractors tried to prevent the marriage. They cojoled you, argued with you, bribed you, lied to you. You never wavered. You loved me and you were not going to let anyone destroy what we had.” Images began filling her mind. She could see the stone walls of the castle. She could feel the mists on her skin, smell the woods, hear the birds. The images grew darker and she could see candles in the darkness, hear the screams of pain, smell death. “You killed so many,” she whispered. “Only those who deserved to die,” he answered softly. “No. I remember you. There was a madness in you. For a time you were able to keep it in check. But it gradually grew and soon you were gone completely. The only thing left was the demon who thrived on blood, pain and torture.” There was nothing to say. Marinska was right. There had been madness in him. It consumed him body and soul. He killed everything including her love for him. Once again his heart shattered. “You could have stayed. You knew I needed you to save me.” “Only you could save yourself. You gave in.”
Anger flushed his body. He stood and she fell from his lap onto the floor. “I did not give in,” he raged. “You knew how I struggled. You kept me sane. When you left…” he couldn’t continue. “When I left ,you unleashed the beast,” she spat. “You murdered countless thousands of people. Human life meant nothing to you.” He jerked her from the floor. “You unleashed the beast, Marinska. You.” His hand encircled her throat and he began to squeeze. Her eyes grew wide in terror. She thrashed and clawed at his hands, but he refused to relinquish his grip. Tom watched Allana’s eyes close. He had to get control. She needed him. Stop, he screamed in his head. You’re killing her. How can you kill someone you love? He strengthened his will. Anger and the need to protect Allana gave him a strength he didn’t know he possessed. “Leave her alone” his shout echoed in the room. He opened his fingers and held Allana in his arms. “Please baby. Wake up.” He laid her on the sofa and patted her cheeks. What was the first aid protocol for a woman you almost strangled? “Not me. Him,” he growled. Why? Vlad’s question filled his mind. “Because you’re a selfish demented demon from hell. Your love?” he sneered the word. “Your obsession can’t bear to let anyone have what you can’t possess. Leave us be.” I refuse to let her go. “If you ever truly loved her, you would.” He could sense Vlad’s spirit losing its hold on him. I will not ever leave. She is the one who made my life complete. “You have to. For her sake.” Vlad’s spirit loosed and then was gone. But for how long? “Thank God.” He stroked Allana’s forehead. “Can you hear me Allana?” Should he call an ambulance? Take her to the ER? What would he tell them? Yeah this demon spirit possessed me and it strangled her with my hands. “Allana, wake up. Come back.” She slowly began to stir. Her lids slid open and he saw terror fill her beautiful eyes. “Please,” she uttered the harsh croaking word. “Please, don’t.”
“Sh. It’s all right Allana. I’m here now. He’s gone. I won’t ever let him hurt you again.” She scanned his face, then stared deep into his eyes. “He’s gone.” Tom nodded. “I think it’s for good.” I hope. She reached for him and he took her in his arms. “My hero,” she whispered. Her voice was still scratchy. He examined the ugly finger shaped bruises dotting her pale slender neck. He then glanced at his hands. They had touched her with such violence. Even though Vlad inflicted her pain, he was still eaten with guilt. She placed a hand on his cheek. “It wasn’t you.” He took her hand, slid it to his lips, and kissed her palm. “It was a small part of me.” His confession startled himself as much as her. She stilled in his embrace. “But he… It was his turn to touch her face. “He was inside me. But if I’d been stronger, he’d not have assumed control.” She relaxed. “You did. If not for you, I’d have died, again.” He grinned. “This time you’re going to be around for a long, long time.” “How do you know?” “Because I’m sticking around to make sure.”
Chapter Twenty-Three Tom watched Allana sleeping. The exhaustion from the terror of the days had crushed her into a deep sleep. It was impossible to believe that it was all true. The curse, no the demon that she believed hung over her head was real. Possessions happened. Evil spirits could cause real pain, even death. Up until a few short days ago he thought all that nonsense was the stuff horror movies were made of. Now that he’d seen the nightmare for himself, he was shaken. He had assured Allana that Vlad’s spirit was gone, but was he really? The monster had been with Allana for how many years? He had killed three people and destroyed her happiness. The pain that those men had endured. It made him sick. The memory of how they suffered, the feelings that were associated with that evil, would be with him forever. Vlad had also managed to trap Tom inside his body. Allana moaned in her sleep and rolled over. After all that had happened Tom’s aches and pains returned. His bruised body was protesting, demanding he lay down and try to rest. He slowly lowered himself onto her bed beside her. She snuggled against him and he relaxed his breathing. Her body heat was a comforting sensation against his. He was in love with her. The realization slammed into him. How could he be in love with a woman after only a few days of knowing her? Because everything the two of them had been through. There was no other explanation. Now that it was over, he wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know every inch of Allana. All of this life, the next and whatever came after that. He gingerly rolled up onto his side so that he could study her face. For the first time in days she seemed at peace. I won’t disturb her, he swore to himself silently. Even as the thought flitted in his mind, he reached out to stroke her cheek. Her eyes slid open. “What are you doing?” There was no anger in her tone—that was a good sign, wasn’t it? “I just needed to feel close to you. If you want me to leave, tell me now.”
He held his breath while he waited for her to consider an answer. “No. I’d like you to stay,” her voice was soft and almost imperceptible. He relaxed next to her. Despite his tortured body, he pulled her even closer and pressed a kiss against her neck. When she didn’t push him away, his confidence grew. He nibbled at the soft skin of her neck. He bit into the creamy flesh and sucked. She moaned a sound of ecstasy and agony mingled. He released his bite. “Did I hurt you?” She didn’t answer. “Allana, did I hurt you? If you want me to stop you only have to say so.” She turned her face up to him. Her green eyes were bright and moist. A single tear slid down her cheek and he jerked away immediately regretting not only the fact he’d made her unhappy, but the fact his back had stiffened and the movement shot pain through his legs. “Please,” she half whispered. “Please don’t stop, Tom.” Any thought of his discomfort faded with her pleading tone. He growled low and straddled her body. He kissed her fiercely, dominantly, territorially. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth sliding against her tongue. They tangled together and Allana’s hips thrust up into his groin. Her hands slid along his side, up his back and weaved his hair around her fingers. She held his face close her growing hunger with every kiss. His body was hard against hers. She longed to surrender to him, was ready to, but there was still the niggling worry in the back of her mind. Would Vlad return and kill them? That fear almost drove her to push Tom away. Then his hand slid under her shorts waistband. He an agonizing amount of time, to reach her. The feel of his fingers on her was a welcome shock. He slid one between her nether lips. With gently pressure he stroked her. His kisses became more inflamed, his breathing faster and harder. His cock stiffened against her inner thigh. She dropped a hand and reached down to caress the organ. The back of her arm brushed against his hand as she alternately pumped and squeezed. Suddenly he plunged three fingers into her tight space and she shot up, trapping his hand between her body and his. “God Allana,” he panted. “So tight. Oh so tight.” She couldn’t find the breath to respond. She let go of his cock long enough to pull his hand from inside her. When it was gone she buried the cool feeling of loss knowing that in only seconds it would be replaced.
She guided him inside her and ground her hips against him. His already large member pulsated in her body. Tom pushed up on his hands and stared down at her. She met his gaze with certainty. She wanted him. She needed him. She loved him. She stretched to accommodate him, after not having sex in so long it was almost as if she’d been revirginized. That thought almost made her laugh but he was already pulling away. She whimpered but he only slid out to the tip of his shaft then drove himself deep into her. The force took her breath away but it was the most wonderful feeling she’d experienced in ages. He pulled out and shoved into her again. He pumped her and the sheets beneath her offered a tender friction as she rocked into them. She wrapped her legs around his waist and shoved her hips upward meeting him thrust for thrust. He trembled and moaned then collapsed breathlessly on top of her. He lay then, pressing her into the mattress. He was heavy but it wasn’t an altogether uncomfortable weight. “God Baby,” He didn’t finish. “That was so good Tom. I feel…just so good.” “Good?” He rolled onto his back, dragging her with him. “Good? Well, give me a minute to catch my breath and we’ll go for great—no matter how long it takes.” “It could take all night.” “I always loved a good challenge. Bring it on Baby.” She giggled. She actually giggled! It was so intoxicating, this liberation from the hell that was her life. No more darkness, no more misery and loss. Only brightness and happily ever after.
Epilogue
Hillsboro Missouri Summer, 2008 Allana stood in front of the mirror and smoothed her hair. She sighed and walked to the door. The county court house wasn’t exactly the Old Cathedral, but she was already tempting fate. Sure, Vlad had been gone for the last year. Still the memories of her nightmares hadn’t completely dissipated. There was a light rap on the door. “Allana? Are you almost done?” She inhaled deeply. “Just another minute, Tom.” She touched up her lipstick and once more smoothed out her hair, then stepped from the bathroom and walked right into his arms. “All set?” he studied her face intently. She nodded. “Let’s go.” He led her into the small courtroom. She listened as the judge spoke the words that would bind them together forever. “Do you Allana Simpson take this man to be your lawfully wedded…” visions flooded her mind. She stood before a cleric dressed in elegant robes. He held a Bible in his hand and he was asking her to make those same vows to Vlad. Vlad stood beside her, his smile warm and so full of love. A shadow passed over his face and chills raced down her spine. His eyes became hard and brittle. Fear churned her stomach and for a moment, she was sure she’d be ill. Violently ill. “Allana?” Tom’s voice chased away the horrible fear. “What?” She looked over to find the judge studying her closely. “I’m sorry, your Honor. I do. With all my heart, I do.”
Tom slid the ring on her finger and for a second she saw the ring that had adorned her finger all those centuries ago. The one with the Dracul crest. The band that was a physical testament to the love she and Vlad had once shared. She had to rid herself of these memories. Why did they have to come now? Even with Vlad gone, she still wasn’t confident that she would be allowed happiness. She felt the heat from Tom’s body next to hers as his arms encircled her. He kissed her deeply. “I love you, Mrs. Haugan.” “I love you, Mr. Haugan.” This was a whole new life. Get a grip and stop worrying. He turned for the door and led them out to the bright sunlit day. He dragged her to the car and settled her inside, then rounded the front and joined her. “Are you ready for the time of your life?” The thought of their honeymoon thrilled her. “I am. Where are we going?” “It’s a surprise.” She snuggled into his arm. “I love surprises.” She shifted in the seat and a packet slid to the floor. She lifted the large envelope. It had opened and the contents had slipped out. Inside were their passports, tickets to American Airlines and then… “Austrian air?” A smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he nodded. She felt the old familiar cold chill. She tried to slow her pounding heart. “Tom? Where are we going?” “Home.” That eastern European accent was back. He turned to face her and his amber eyes had begun to darken. “But—I,” she couldn’t think. It wasn’t possible. “I—I don’t,” she kept stammering. “I love you, my wife. Beyond death.” Darkness swam before her eyes and then the world went black.
Dear Reader, I’ve played fast and loose with facts about Vlad III Prince of Wallachia. Vlad the Impaler. He signed his documents as Vlad Dracula (son of the dragon or son of the devil). His father, Vlad II was Vlad Dracul. Some believe Vlad Dracula was the devil incarnate. Indeed his methods of cruel punishment and torture were well documented. Yet, among many of his people he is remembered as a national hero. He united the country, battled the invasion of the Turks, built churches, and funded monasteries. He provided security for his people. He was considered a common man’s defender, he championed for the people against the oppressive boyars. He ended theft, he curtailed infidelity, and he demanded honesty. Statues were erected to their country’s hero. And in modern days there were stamps commissioned with his image in Romania. Although there are many positive notes in the Romanian traditions and legend of Vlad Dracula, they still remember his bloodthirsty ways. The Turks held Vlad prisoner during the Ottoman period. He suffered torture and many forms of abuse at the hands of his captors. This treatment is believed to have warped his mind and given him the desire for blood and pain. Vlad also had his first wife commit suicide. Her name is unknown, undocumented so she has faded into the mists of time. It is said she was a loving and gentle woman so it was easy to picture her as a gentle heroine. They say it was when the Turks invaded that she threw herself from a balcony into the Arges River. It was called the Princess River for many years following her death. Vlad’s reign is one of the cruelest and bloodiest in history. For my opinion, it was second only to the rule of Adolph Hitler and his Third Reich. Jinger Jackson