Page 7 of Dracula: Bound in Blood

“Transylvania, sir?” Bistra’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It is a land of great beauty, yes, but also of great danger. In my homeland, we fear the vampyr - unholy beings who survive by draining the lifeblood of the living.”

Jonathan couldn’t help but lean forward, drawn in by the intensity of Bistra’s words and the apparent fear in her eyes.

“Count Dracula,” Bistra continued, her voice trembling slightly, “his castle grounds are forbidden. The locals whisper of it only in the darkest hours of the night, and even then, they fear to speak too loudly. Many who enter those grounds never return, sir.”

Lucy clasped her hands together, her eyes wide. “You see, Jonathan? It’s just as I told you. Oh, do be careful!”

Jonathan found himself torn between rational skepticism and a growing sense of unease. The fear in Bistra’s eyes seemed too real to be mere superstition, yet surely, in this modern age...

“Come on, Bistra? You can't really believe—” he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

The old woman’s gaze met his, unwavering and intense. “I have seen things, Mr. Harker, that would shake the foundations of your modern world. Take care in Transylvania. The old ways, the old evils... they have not forgotten themselves, even if we have forgotten them.”

A chill ran down Jonathan’s spine, and he found himself clutching the crucifix Lucy had given him a little tighter.

Lucy laid a comforting hand on Jonathan’s arm. “Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to take a few more talismans with you, just in case? Bistra, I’m certain you would know better.”

Jonathan found himself nodding, a gnawing sense of dread taking root in the pit of his stomach. He tried to shake it off, reminding himself of the substantial fee the Count had offered. ‘Besides,’ he thought, ‘he requested me specifically. Surely that’s a good sign?’

Jonathan’s mind wandered. He should have been focused on the potential dangers hinted at by Lucy and Bistra’s ominous words, but instead, he found himself dwelling on the mysterious Count. What would he be like? Would he be as imposing and aristocratic as Jonathan imagined?

‘Stop it,’ he chided himself. ‘This is a business transaction, nothing more. Don’t let your imagination run wild.’

Chapter Four

Days Later…

Jonathan stood in his bedroom, methodically packing his luggage for the journey. Lucy perched on the edge of his bed, absently scratching behind the ears of Béla, the Doberman puppy Jonathan had rescued on that fateful rainy night. The dog’s tail thumped happily against the plush bedding, oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Don’t worry about this little fellow,” Lucy reassured Jonathan, her voice warm with affection. She really didn’t think she’d take to the pup, but she just couldn’t help herself. ‘Maybe I just enjoytaking in strays.’ She thought as she began to rub his belly. “I’ll look after him as if he were my own.”

Jonathan paused in his packing, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watched Lucy with the pup. “Thank you. I appreciate it more than you know.”

Lucy tilted her head curiously and looked at the puppy. “Béla... it’s an unusual name. Where did you unearth that from?”

Jonathan’s brow furrowed, his hands stilling over the half-packed suitcase. “I’m not sure,” he admitted, his voice trailing. “It’s just been... stuck in my head since I was a child, I suppose.”

A fleeting look of discomfort passed over his dark features as if the name stirred some long-buried memory he couldn’t quite place. But as quickly as it came, the moment passed, and Jonathan shrugged it off as he stroked Béla’s soft fur.

As Jonathan closed his suitcase with a final snap, he turned to Lucy with concern. “Are you certain you’ll be alright while I’m gone? I hate to leave you unsupervised for so long.”

Lucy’s laughter rang out, bright and carefree. “Oh, Jonathan, you sweet, naive man. Need I remind you that our engagement is mere cover? A sham to allow me my lovers while protecting your... secret predilections?” Her eyebrow arched suggestively. “This trip may be just what you need to finally explore your... desires. I hear Paris is far freer than most places.” She punctuated her statement with a salacious wink that made Jonathan flush to the roots of his hair.

“Lucy!” he sputtered, but his tone had no real admonishment. Deep down, a part of him thrilled at the possibility she hinted at, even as another part recoiled in shame.

With the help of the servants, Jonathan’s luggage was loaded into the waiting carriage. He stood on the front steps of the Westenra estate, taking in the familiar sight of the manicured gardens and stately facade. Lucy stood beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

“Good luck!” she said softly, her usual mischievous tone replaced by genuine warmth. “Do be careful, won’t you?”

Jonathan nodded, squeezing her hand gently before climbing into the carriage. As it pulled away from the curb, he leaned out the window, waving to Lucy until she was no more than a speck in the distance.

As the carriage rattled through the streets of London, Jonathan couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him. He felt watched, observed by unseen eyes that seemed to follow his every move. Pulling back the curtain, he peered out into the bustling street.

His gaze was drawn to an old woman standing stock-still amidst the crowd. Her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the carriage. As they passed, Jonathan could have sworn he heard her whisper, “He’s in the carriage now, Master.”

Unable to resist, Jonathan poked his head further out the window, straining to get a better look at the woman. Shecontinued to whisper, her lips moving in an endless stream of inaudible words as the carriage rolled by.

Unnerved, Jonathan pulled back into the carriage, closing the curtains with shaky hands. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. ‘It’s nothing,’ he told himself sternly. ‘Just your imagination running wild after all those ridiculous stories.’ But try as he might, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

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