Part 3 (1/2)
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lifting the goblet to her lips, Ivona gingerly sipped a small amount of the coveted serum with strained grace.
Unbeknownst to the others, the composed incubus before them secretly wrestled the beast within her, struggling to keep it at bay even as its black tentacles stretched throughout her body until it coiled itself around each vessel in eager antic.i.p.ation of the feed.
Its malevolent nature insisted she down the entire contents like the ravenous beast she really was, and appease the voracious hunger racing through her insides like liquid fire, leaving a searing path of agony in its wake-an agony only blood could pacify. When the warm fluid touched her tongue, it was all she could do to keep from allowing it total reign.
She knew the contents of the chalice would hardly suffice, for The Evil's hunger was fierce. A room full of unsuspecting victims whose bodies surged with the desired life-giving nectar hovered just beyond its grasp. Only through her could this parasite from h.e.l.l attain its need.
Years of experience had afforded Ivona the craft of controlling the demon within her. She was its master. Like a helpless convict isolated within a room of one-way gla.s.s, itcould do no more than glower at the unsuspecting patrons from behind Ivona's cloaked stare.
Her appet.i.te temporarily sated, she gently set the cup back on the table and returned her attentions back to the others. ”Prince Vlad managed to evade his pursuers and made his way through Transylvania to Hunedoara Castle, but if he had hoped for a warm welcome from King Corvinus, he was sorely surprised. Upon arrival, he was arrested and imprisoned in one of the royal towers.”
Ivona sighed. ”My revenge was to be delayed yet again.”
Then she smiled at the man across from her. ”Time, they say, heals all wounds and erases ill memories. Perhaps this is true, for within a few years, Vlad was able to win his way back into the graces of the King and soon married a member of the royal family. From that point on, he became almost untouchable, heavily guarded, and always seemingly just beyond my grasp.”
Her head dipped forward as a smirk touched her lips. ”So I patiently waited, studying him with relentless perseverance until, I dare say, I knew him better than even he did himself.
I memorized his every mood and mannerism, meticulously tucking away the information for future use. It was only a matter of time before I would taste victory.”
Unable to resist, Ivona reached for her goblet. She held the chalice beneath her nose, inhaling the content's intoxicating scent. Blood tasted so much better when it was still warm.Once again, she gingerly sipped the coveted elixir with forced control, carefully concealing the raging bloodl.u.s.t soaring through her veins as the sweet serum touched her lips. Only a faint sparkle in the depths of her eyes betrayed the truth, and to anyone else, it was merely a flicker of a nearby candle flame.
”During Vlad's detainment at Hunedoara, Radu became the successor to the Walachian throne,” she announced with a note of mockery. ”But Radu had inst.i.tuted a pro- Turkish policy, if you will, which didn't bode well with the King of Hungary. Even though Radu's reign was cut short by succession of a member of the Danesti clan, Basarab the Old, his predecessor continued in his footsteps and welcomed Turkish influence into the Walachian territory.”
With strained tolerance, she gently set the cup back down in its place. ”In the year fourteen hundred and seventy-six, Vlad tasted freedom once again. The King released him with the hope that he would regain control of Walachia and reinstate Catholicism to the Walachian people. With the help of Prince Stephen Bathory of Moldavia, Vlad invaded Walachia and quickly secured a victory, becoming the Walachian Prince for the third time. But this was to be a limited triumph, for my moment of reckoning was soon to be coming. Shortly after retaking the throne, Prince Bathory and most of Vlad's Moldavian forces returned to Transylvania, leaving him vulnerable to attack.”
Losing control of her animalistic urges, Ivona scooped up her goblet and quickly gulped down the rest of itscontents. She swallowed hard, her body visibly trembling as she reveled in the memory of her revenge and once again tasted the sugary flavor of triumph.
Slamming the chalice back down, ”It wasn't long before the Turks made their move on the defenseless Prince of Walachia,” she declared in a rush. ”In nary a month's time, Vlad engaged in a battle with the Turks near Bucharest.
From the safety of the nearby Vlasia Forest, I watched the melee unfold, patiently waiting for a moment to attack. My revenge was at hand.”
Ivona's breaths became pants of antic.i.p.ation. Her eyes danced about the room like the s.h.i.+fty stare of a lunatic. As though trying to contain her escalating excitement, she gripped the arms of the leather chair so tightly her knuckles nearly burst through the pale flesh of her hands.
Lucian felt his own breaths quicken in comparison. After learning the true reasoning of why his forefather was slain, he found himself eager to know the manner of his murderer's death. Forgetting the others about them, he leaned forward in his chair, his stare unwavering as he waited for Ivona to deliver the antic.i.p.ated satisfaction.
If she thought his behavior odd, she gave no indication.
Rather, she seemed pleased by his intense interest. Her eyes sparkled like two Forth of July firecrackers and her chin lifted a notch with pride.”There are many rumors as to how Prince Vlad died that day. Some believe one of his own men accidentally struck him down at the precise moment of victory because he was dressed in Turkish garb in order to confuse his enemy.
Others think he was killed by a Turkish arrow that managed to pierce through the protective borders of his Moldavian bodyguards.”
The corners of Ivona's mouth curled up into a wicked smile. She looked like a pleased cat having just eaten its latest kill. ”Both are wrong. Broken and beaten, his life force slowly seeping from multiple wounds, Prince Vlad stumbled away from the smoke and confusion of the battling men and made his way to a nearby swamp where I was waiting,” she boasted.
Feeling her features begin to s.h.i.+ft as The Evil clawed at her self-control, Ivona willed herself to calm down and attempted a smile, but she knew it probably looked more like the snarl of a ferocious beast on the verge of attack. Her gaze darted about the room, taking in the expressions of fear and disbelief of the others. Only the man across from her seemed completely at ease, and Ivona couldn't help but wonder why.
Was he her nemesis? Was he the one she'd come here for? She sensed he hid something, seemingly beneath hisclothing, or perhaps beneath his flesh. He kept his soul carefully guarded against her probing.
Few mortals had the power to resist her inquisition.
There was certainly something different about this one, and she had the uncanny notion she'd discover it before night's end.
Ivona closed her eyes and murmured a chant of control.
Several moments pa.s.sed before she felt in charge once again. ”Please forgive me,” she began, training her gaze on one of the terrified faces before her. ”I tend to get...excited when I reminisce.” As all traces of her former animosity dissipated, Ivona's mouth curled into an irresistibly devastating grin that instantly placed everyone at ease.
”Shall I continue?”
”Yes, please,” the bartender chimed without hesitance.
Ivona smiled. ”As Vlad's footsteps began to falter and his gait became unsteady, I realized the moment I had antic.i.p.ated for nearly seventeen years was now at hand.