Hunting Prince Dracula (Stalking Jack the Ripper 2) - Page 91

“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, Contesa,” 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 doua 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.

Order of the Dragon, c. 1400s.

CRYPT

CRIPTA

BRAN CASTLE

22 DECEMBER 1888

I stared at the blood slowly dripping from the tip of Ileana’s sword, words stuffed inside my throat, practically choking me. That was the only reason I hadn’t vomited all over Anastasia’s impaled body. My friend. I watched the life leave her eyes and was horrified by the serenity that befell her, though her entire body was covered in the black and red of both dried and fresh blood.