Csilla is ill from the poison Brice slipped into her tea and soup. I have not fed from her though Ignatius assured me that I am immune due to my vampire nature. When I think of how she so cruelly poisoned Laura in an effort to eliminate her from my affections, I want to rush in and tear off her head. Yet, I know I must be patient. It is difficult to fight my natural urges, but I must contain myself if I am to survive.
Katya often sits at Csilla’s side, speaking softly to her as the fever rages and the hallucinations reign over her mind. Brice is angry with me, but I cannot be concerned. He can rot in his hate for all I care at this time. I do feel a certain amount of guilt because I did fail him to some extent, but I vow to keep my word to him even if he has upset me. I may be a vampire, but I am a decent person.
Laura and Ignatius get along quite well. They both love to play chess and spend many hours huddled over the board moving pieces about. I am glad they are fond of each other. They are my new found family, and I love them both deeply. Every morning when I lay down in Ignatius’s arms to sleep, I am comforted by his touch and love.
Yet, I cannot ignore the dark specter that rules over my life. Astir warned me that death would come when the snow fell. The fortuneteller warned of a dragon and that death would be its harbinger. If the deaths they predicted were those of Laura and her family, then Vlad may be soon descending upon us. But I have come to believe, perhaps in a superstitious way, that it is Csilla’s death that is my harbinger. I find myself more and more reluctant to take her life.
“What was that?” Laura asked.
A commotion from the foyer drew my attention from my journaling. I was seated in the parlor writing while Ignatius and Laura sat before the fire playing chess.
I tossed my journal and gold pen aside and rushed out of the room behind Ignatius. As I entered the foyer, my eyes fell upon the scene before me and I felt my dead heart lurch.
“No!”
Behind me, Laura began to scream.
I stumbled forward falling to my knees.
Adem and his guards were swathed in heavy coats, scarves and fur hats. Adem tugged a snow covered form across the floor as his men dragged in another body before closing the door. I was aware of Laura sobbing and Ignatius and Adem talking rapidly to one another, but I could not take my eyes off of the pale, icy figure of my beloved friend, Percy. His blue eyes were open and his mouth was frozen in a grimace. Snow and ice covered his hair and I reached out to brush it away. It was then I saw the mangled remains of his throat.
“What did this?” My own voice startled me. I could still hear Laura screaming and Magda trying to console her, but they felt far away, their voices muffled. My fingers hovered over Percy’s dead features as I realized I could not shut his eyes. They were frozen open. “What did this?”
My voice echoed through the foyer.
Ignatius knelt beside me to examine my friend’s dead body. He took hold of my hand and gently laid it back on my lap, so he could better see the wound.
“The driver’s throat is torn open as well,” Adem noted. “Cezar, check the bodies of the horses. ”
A guard nodded before plunging back into the world of night and snow.
“Ignatius,” I said, a catch in my voice. “Tell me what did this!”
Turning his face toward me, he said softly, “A beast. ”
“What sort of beast?” The word dragon resounded in my mind.
“Glynis, calm yourself. Please. ” Ignatius’s eyes strayed to where Laura lay collapsed on the floor with Magda trying to comfort her. “You must be calm. ”
“I loved him,” I wailed. “He was my dear friend. He reminded me so much of my father!”
Ignatius pressed his palms to my cheeks and kissed my forehead. “I know, my darling, I know. Let me examine him. Please. ”
Clutching my hands to my bosom, I struggled to contain my emotions as I watched him. I was grateful for his tenderness as he pulled away Percy’s collar and scarf to better view the savage wound. I extended my hand and gripped Percy’s frost covered fingers. They were hard and cold beneath my touch. He may no longer be among the living, but I wanted to feel one last moment of connection with him.
Adem was a bit rougher with the driver, studying the wound upon his throat with great intensity.
“Was it a dragon?” My voice sounded odd. Distant. I felt lost in the wilds of my own dark thoughts.
“No, darling. ” Ignatius raised his eyes. “A wolf. ”
The image of Vlad turning into a great wolf came to mind, and I shuddered. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
“We cannot be certain, Countess. There are wolves in this area. ” Adem sat back on his heels and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“He died very quickly, Glynis. His throat was
torn out. It was a matter of moments,” Ignatius consoled me.