Page 27 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

Dracula cupped Jonathan’s face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I cannot condemn you to a life in the shadows, a life of darkness and blood.”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But I’ve already tasted your blood,” he said. “I’ve already crossed that line. I won’t pretend to understand your meaning, but I don’t think I can return to my life now.”

Dracula shook his head. “But you still can. A taste is not enough to change you, Jonathan. You are still human, still alive. You can still go back to your life in London, leave this darkness behind. If you take another helping of my blood for the third time, then you will be changed forever.”

“Then give it to me!”

“You do not know of what you ask! You are just afraid and running from your London, just as I was running from my loneliness. I am determined to accept my fate, as should you. This…is not love, just two lonely souls clinging to one another.”

“What does it matter?” Jonathan fired back. “In London, families arrange marriages for sport. People commit their livesto one another, unsure if love will ever bloom. Why can’t we do the same? We have passion; that’s a better start than most.”

“Can you live forever with me, knowing I see another man in you? How I long to kiss his lips once more. Would you tolerate me crying out his name as I enter you?”

Dracula chuckled at Jonathan’s silence. “You must rest now. Tomorrow, you will leave this place. You will return to your London, to the life you were meant to live.”

Jonathan looked like he wanted to argue, but suddenly and without warning his head was light as the exhaustion and blood loss were taking their toll.

“Yes, Sleep…” Dracula’s voice was so hypnotic. Through the haze, Jonathan knew what was happening; the Count was using some sort of magic to alter his mind.

“Please don’t make me forget…” he muttered, trying vainly to fight against his heavy lids. “Don’t make me…”

“Just sleep. You will remember everything. I promise.”

“You play dirty, Count…”

His eyes fluttered closed, and he drifted off to sleep, his breath soft and even.

Chapter Nineteen

As Jonathan stirred from his slumber, soft morning light filtered through the heavy velvet curtains. His mind was foggy, struggling to piece together what happened last night. He remembered everything, from the violent attack and Dracula’s savage defense to the intimate exchange of blood that followed. The Count didn’t alter his mind, and Jonathan was grateful for it.

Jonathan’s hand instinctively went to his abdomen, where he remembered being wounded. To his surprise, he found the area expertly bandaged, with only a dull ache remaining where there should have been searing pain. He was healed, mostly healed, but his body was still sore and bruised, and he could barely move. However, his vision was as sharp as ever. He could smell roasted meat as if it was already in the room with him, but it wasn’t. He also smelled something like cooking grass with garlic,but he couldn’t tell what that was, and yeast, yes, he smelled that too.

A gentle knock at the door preceded Vigo’s entrance. The old man carried a tray laden with a hearty breakfast—fragrant bread, rich cheeses, and what appeared to be a dark, savory stew. ‘Ah, was that the grassy smell?’ Jonathan wondered. ‘Is this the magic of the Count’s blood?’

“Good morning, Master Harker,” Vigo said. His gravelly voice was also very warm. He reminded Jonathan of a kindly old grandfather. At least what he imagined a grandfather to be like. “I trust you slept well?”

Jonathan struggled to sit up, wincing slightly at the movement. “As well as can be expected, I suppose,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “Though I confess, I’m having trouble reconciling... everything that’s happened.”

Vigo nodded sagely as he set the tray on a nearby table. “That is understandable. You have been thrust into a world few mortals ever glimpse, let alone comprehend. Perhaps I can provide some clarity while you eat?”

Jonathan nodded, suddenly aware of the gnawing hunger in his belly. Vigo settled into a nearby chair as he began to eat. He first tasted the stew; its rich flavors seemed more vibrant than any stew he ever had.

“My master is not a monster. Though he himself would disagree. Vigo continued, his voice taking on a solemn tone. “My masterwas once known as Vlad the Impaler, a valiant warrior who fought against the Ottoman Empire. He was a mortal man then, a prince of Wallachia.”

Jonathan’s eyes widened in shock. “The historical figure? But that was centuries ago!”

Vigo nodded gravely. “Indeed. The Count traded his mortal soul for victory against the Ottomans. However, the bargain was cruel. He won a few battles but ultimately lost the war... and his beloved Béla in the conflict.”

Jonathan listened intently, his mind reeling with this new information. “So the Count was once human? And this Béla...”

“For centuries, he searched for Béla’s reincarnation,” Vigo explained. “But as each potential match proved false, he grew bitter and despondent. The years weighed heavily upon him.”

Vigo paused, his gaze intense as he looked at Jonathan. “You, Master Harker, are that reincarnated lover.”

Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. “That’s... that’s impossible. How could I be?”

Vigo stood, moving the food tray aside. “Come, let me show you something.”

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