CHAPTER FORTY-THREE HUNTING PRINCE DRACULA #2
Anastasia threw her shoulders back, head held high. It was an impressive feat considering the gore smeared all over her; yet she did possess a regal air.
“Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed.”
“Of course,” Thomas muttered. “Also known as the Countess Dracula.”
For a moment no one spoke or moved. I recalled the brief mention of the countess in Radu’s class and fought a shiver.
“So you know it’s fate.” Anastasia’s eyes glittered with pride.
“You see, I hail from a house equally known for its bloodlust, Audrey Rose. My ancestor bathed in the blood of innocents. She ruled with fear.” Anastasia pointed to Thomas.
“He and I? We were destined to meet. As we are destined to produce heirs more fearsome than their ancestors. Destin. I had no idea the stars had so much planned! You are a minor inconvenience. One easily taken care of.”
I didn’t so much as breathe. So Anastasia was a displaced heiress in search of her birthright. And she did not care how she reclaimed it, through force or love. If she thought she could hunt Thomas, coerce him into marriage, and murder me in the process, she’d no idea who I was.
I clenched my fists, more determined than ever to keep her talking while I plotted our escape. “How did you murder the man on the train—and why?”
My former friend stared at me for a beat, eyes narrowed.
I silently prayed that her need to boast would be tempting enough for her to answer my questions without seeing my true motive.
“The Order of the Dragon lives. I wanted to cleanse their ranks. These days, they are mostly composed of that inconsequential D?nesti line.”
She pointed the revolver toward where Prince Nicolae lay, limp as a rag doll, skin discolored from what I assumed was arsenic, punctures now visible on his neck.
It appeared as if she’d used his blood the way her ancestor had—by bathing in it, leaving barely enough to keep him alive.
If he even still lived. His chest no longer appeared to be rising and falling with breath.
“The man from the train was a high-ranking member. I slipped him a lethal dose of arsenic, then impaled him as he gasped for breath.” Anastasia sounded as if she were recalling a dress she had made from fine silks.
“I had no idea it was outside your compartment. A happy coincidence. I then raced back to my room. No one noticed the girl with dark hair. Wigs are distrac?ie excelent?. I worried that Wilhelm might eventually recognize me, though. He needed to be dealt with immediately.”
A memory of that morning flashed across my mind—I had seen a girl with dark hair. She’d cried out for a doctor. I’d been so consumed with the chaos that I hadn’t paid attention to her face.
Thomas crossed his arms over his chest, taking on that bored tone once more. “Where is my sister?”
“How should I know? I am not anyone’s keeper.” Anastasia jerked her chin toward me, then gestured at a weapon on Nicolae’s belt. “Give Dracula’s heir the knife.”
Thomas’s eyes widened as he glanced in my direction. I nearly cried with relief. In her fervor to unite their bloodlines, she hadn’t realized that she’d just handed us a way to defeat her. My palms grew slick with the rush of nerves.
I pressed the small jeweled dagger into Thomas’s hand and held my breath, worried any show of excitement might alert Anastasia to her grievous mistake. She grinned, attention latched onto the blade now residing in Thomas’s steady grasp.
“End him,” she said to Thomas. “Do it quickly.”
“Why poison?” I asked, stalling. There had to be a way out of this that didn’t involve murdering Nicolae.
Anastasia pointed the revolver at my throat. It seemed my former friend had considered mutiny after all. She walked to Nicolae and nudged him with her foot, gun still aimed at me.
“Arsenic is a wonder.” She bent down, brushing strands of dark hair back from the prince’s face. “It’s tasteless, colorless, and can be slipped into all manner of food and drink. A young prince never turns down wine, it seems.”
“If you’re attempting to instill the same fear Vlad Dracula did in his opponents,” Thomas said, “poisoning Nicolae and the others hardly seems frightening.”
Anastasia moved a hand to Nicolae’s neck, checking for a pulse. “Isn’t it, though? Arsenic is used to weaken and incapacitate the victims, not kill. It would have proven too difficult for me to fight young men, and the murders too messy.”
“You wanted villagers to believe the stories of Dracula rising,” I said, suddenly understanding. “You couldn’t very well stab people and then claim their blood had been dined upon by a strigoi.”
“Legends are meant to inspire fear.” Anastasia stood.
“They must be larger than the life we lead in order to maintain their lure for generations. Don’t go into the woods after sunset.
We never think of a beautiful princess lurking in the night forest, do we?
No. We imagine bloodthirsty demons. Vampires.
Night reminds us that we’re also prey. We’re terrified and thrilled by the prospect of being hunted. ”
“I still don’t understand one thing, though,” I said, gaze trailing from Nicolae’s limp form to Anastasia’s blood-coated body. “Why murder the maid?”
“That particular murder was homage paid to my ancestor. Now, then. Thomas,” she swung the gun back to my forehead, “end Prince Nicolae’s life now. I have hunted down Dracula’s heir. We may begin fresh. New. We will rise as Prince and Countess Dracula. Reclaim both this castle and your life.”
Tension coiled around the room, a match ready to set this battle ablaze.
Thomas took an unsteady step back, focus flicking from Nicolae to the gun now at my head.
I did not want him to do something he’d spend the rest of his life regretting.
Thomas Cresswell was not Vlad Dracula. His life had not been built upon creating death, but on solving it.
He was a light carving through the darkness like a scythe.
But I knew he’d destroy himself to save me and not give it a second thought.
“Why involve Thomas?” I blurted. “If you’re the Countess Dracula, why make him kill?”
Anastasia stared at me as if I were the one who no longer made sense.
“Thomas is the last male blood relative of the Impaler Lord. It is symbolic to have him end the life of this false prince, reclaim his bloodline, and bring ruin to the academy. No one will want to attend an academy where the students have died gruesomely under mysterious circumstances. Once the academy is no more, we can take it as our rightful home.”
“What of the current king and queen?”
“Have you not been paying attention?” Anastasia demanded. “Arsenic will end their lives, too. I’ll go through each noble household until Thomas’s claim is the only one left. I will succeed in destroying the Order that way, too.”
At that proclamation, two cloaked figures stepped forward. They’d been hidden behind the piles of bones surrounding us. I’d thought I’d lost the ability to be surprised, but I gasped when the taller figure flung its hood back and swept the cloak away from its weapons.
Daciana stood before us, clad in breeches and a tunic, wearing the insignia of the dragon along with more knives than Uncle had scalpels in his laboratory. Thomas flashed her an incredulous yet relieved look and kept the jeweled dagger firmly in his grip.
“There won’t be any more killing tonight, Contes?,” she said with a mock bow, a blade now directed toward Anastasia. “Ileana, please disarm her.”
The second figure removed its hood, and my breathing stilled.
My attention snapped to Thomas, unsure if my mind were playing tricks on me.
Perhaps I was having an elaborate nightmare and I’d wake soon, sweaty and tangled in my sheets.
His sister and Ileana were… realization crashed through me the same instant it did for Thomas.
He met my gaze and shook his head, an expression of absolute wonder etched into his features. There was something oddly satisfying about him missing a piece of the puzzle for once.
Anastasia glanced from Thomas to Daciana and Ileana, confusion giving way to anger. She swung her weapon toward Nicolae’s chest.
“How dare you?” she screamed, staring at Ileana. “I worked everything out, everything! You—a pitiful maid—have no right!”
“Stand down, Anastasia,” Ileana said, in the tone of someone used to giving orders that were followed. “You have dou? seconds before—”
“I have no need to obey you!” Anastasia thrust herself forward, eyes blazing as she pulled the hammer of the gun back to execute Nicolae.
But Ileana was faster. Her sword went directly through Anastasia’s body.
I stared, horrified, as she slid down the blade, licking deep red blood from her lips, and laughed.
“Ucis… de… o servitoare,” Anastasia gasped, fresh blood now dripping from her mouth to blend with the red pool on the ground. “A Báthory murdered by a maid. How fitting.”
She laughed again, blood bubbling up her throat.
No one attempted to help her while she lay dying, asphyxiating on her own life force.
It was too late. Like the man she’d murdered on the train, Wilhelm Aldea, the girl from the village and her husband, and the maid Mariana, there was no bringing her back from Death’s Dominion now.
It was a sight I knew would haunt me, along with the Ripper murders, for the rest of my life.