Curse of Dracula - Kathryn Ann Kingsley Page 0,112
the Frenchman. “What about Walter?”
Zadok shook his head as though she had caught on to the wrong part. “You have become him, Vlad is—the Master is dead—he can’t die. He cannot!” He slid to the floor. He sat there with his legs out in front of him, looking like a man who was told his wife had just died in childbirth.
He has lost his family. He has lost the only man he believed could never leave him.
“Zadok. I need you to focus. What did you say about Walter?”
“The boy. Eddie. He—” He stammered uselessly. “You are my Mistress.” He pulled in a breath, held it, then let out his words as a rush. “I can feel it, same way I could with him.” The poor vampire was shaking.
She looked down at Vlad, at the form that could be a corpse for all intents and purposes. And perhaps he was. There was no telling what she had done or what had transpired. There were only the facts left to examine. She reached out and stroked his hair, wishing for all the world that he would open his eyes.
I killed him. This is my fault. I do not get to mourn for what I’ve done.
“You are the Vampire Queen now, Maxine.”
She laughed sadly. The title sounded ridiculous. “Never say that again.”
“But you are.”
She leaned her head down onto Vlad’s unmoving chest. She felt so small. So weak. So tired. So alone. She wanted him to hold her. To tell her it was going to be all right. She knew it would not happen. “I can’t be. I don’t know how.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. I don’t know how any of this shit has come to pass. I don’t know what you did!” Zadok buried his head in his hands and rambled in French so quickly that she couldn’t understand him. With a hiss of air through his nose, he sprang to his feet. “Enough. Enough. I can mourn for him over a bottle of wine later. We need to go help Walter. I came in here to get you both out of bed, and instead I suppose you will have to do. You are our Mistress, and you will save that asshole. Do you hear me? I will not lose more of my family this day!”
“I hear you, cretin.” Pushing from the bed, she wiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. As eager as she was to lie on that bed and never move again, she would not let Walter die because of her mistakes. Zadok was right—she had a duty to them. She had taken Dracula away from them. She looked down at the crimson staining her hands. “That is irritating.”
“You have much to learn,” Zadok grumbled. “That is the least of it. Come, get dressed, and do it quickly, unless you want to greet the hunter in a bathrobe.”
Nodding numbly, she went about the motions. There was something simple and comforting about getting dressed. It was normal. It was not the end of the world. She even let Zadok tug her corset laces tight. Quite admirably, he kept his hands to himself. His grief was likely to blame.
I have killed the Vampire King and taken his throne.
One last time before she left, Maxine sat on the edge of the bed. She kissed Vlad’s lips once more. She tried desperately to find some inkling of a soul within him and found nothing.
I can only pray you have found peace, my love.
He had wished to shed his burden. And she had taken it instead. She was not certain how she would ever be suited for such a role…but she did not have a choice. It was hers to bear until the end of time. But she had understood his need for resolution. He might not have found peace in her love, but he had found peace in the death she had given him.
And now death was never to come for her. The deal they had made was that they would both die. But he left to travel where she could never follow him. She had pushed him through that door, and it had slammed in her face. Hell did not wait for her—only a Hell of her own making now here on Earth.
How many thousands of years had it taken Vlad to become as he was? Cold, cruel, and devoid of compassion?
How many would it take for her to suffer the same fate?