It must have been some vague cruelty that I chose to end his life in the hall of mirrors, the lean corridor bathed in moonlight that Dracula had shown to me with such pride. He had not crossed the threshold, remaining beyond the scope of glass and quicksilver that would have revealed his lack of reflection. I was not so fearless. I was emboldened by the beauty that I knew I possessed, but also that I would never see it again. The rough shape of the wooden stake conformed to my fingers, melting into the folds of my gown as I descended the stairs and approached the room where a feeble light spilled into the outer hall. Eduardo was awaiting me there, nervous and upset, unable to deal with all that he had seen, the gasping final breaths of his beloved brother.

 

I startled him intentionally, arising from the darkness in a menacing shadow that sent him stumbling back several paces. Faint traces of moonlight came from the partial skylight above, casting his reflection in eerie, unending patterns against the glass. Anger entered his feeble breast, overwhelming his unease, and as I lingered in the doorway, he demanded, �What has happened? I must know what you have kept from me! I came upon him this night, whether in the remnants of my worst nightmares, or a reality for which I have no desire to yield. The ground thundered, and blood was spilt, and when I knelt at the creature�s side, he was no longer a woolen demon, but flesh and blood. It spoke to me as though I would understand, and I fear that my dreams were real, that it was indeed my brother as he lay dying on the ground.�

 

Moonlight glistened off my features, playing along the length of my unbound hair, trailing down into the scarlet gown whose sleeves followed the contours of my wrist as I slowly came into the room, avoiding the mirrors. �You have not long been in Transylvania,� I said softly, intending to put him at ease. �There are many inexplicable things. It is said that here lurks the mightiest of all tricksters, that the night is fraught with inexplicable events. When I came here from London, I knew nothing of the world, least of all the things that prowl in darkness. Some of them are a reality, and others a farce, but all leave their mark upon our soul.�

 

�He said you would have the answers, that I was to ask you for the truth.�

 

Eduardo had blood in his eyes, ambition and hunger for knowledge compelled through desperation. He stood without a tremor, composed and calm on the threshold of hell, knowing not that the being slowly circling him was beyond his wildest imagining, a fiend from the pages of children�s stories. I was nearing the mirror and did not hesitate in passing before it. What madness mankind submit to when their minds are wholly occupied, for he did not see that my sweeping gown made no reflection, that my radiant eyes caused no ripple among the moonlit shadows.

 

�What would I know of werewolves?� I asked innocently, and the breath left him in a single rushing wind. I could smell his blood from here, pulsing with the rapid beating of his heart; the beat could almost be heard in my head, a frantic sound that made me weak with desire, not to feed, for I�d been fulfilled that night, but to kill. It was an unknown emotion to me, compounded of the hatred I held for this human, and the apparent enjoyment my lover took from his innocent bungling.

 

�Werewolves! Dear God in Heaven!�

 

Trembling hands holding a rosary hastily made the sign of a cross over his breast. I had to separate him from them, if I was ever to get near enough to end this. And so I told him, quite calmly and purposefully ignorant of his gasps of horror and disapproval, what had become of his brother, that the carriage had overturned on the roadway, that I had thought him dead, that the wolves must have come to him just as the life passed from his body, and granted him a superior life beyond that of human mortality. I encircled him, gauging how easily it would be to take his life, feeling the yearning rushing through my veins.

 

Unaware of peril, his repulsion increased with every syllable until he could contain it no longer and spat out, �A superior life? What madness, to call it superior, when it is only death compounded into another form!�

 

�There are many forms of life, Eduardo. You must not presume to possess the greatest of them.�

 

�There is no life but that humanity survives. This thing, this creature, was not my brother. I refuse to believe in such radical nonsense!� His hand, the one clutching so determinedly the rosary beads, waved aside the notion. Revealing the stake held lightly in my palm, I held it out to him. Dark eyes burned with suspicion and curiosity, as he asked what it was. I replied simply, �It came from your brother�s collection of luggage. I did not want to tell you when you came, for I was certain that you would not believe me. Were it not for Count Dracula�s kindness in allowing you to search for answers, you would have returned home long before now, never knowing the truth. Indeed, you may wish that you had when all is said and done.�

 

The accursed beads went into his jacket pocket and he stretched forward, taking the stake dumbly from my hands. I thought for certain it would have made sense, that all I had told him about Transylvania and her wonderful collection of morbid forces would illuminate the truth without my assistance. But Eduardo remained foolish and insipid. The look he cast me was befuddled. �I do not understand,� he confessed, and I turned apart from him in frustration, throwing up my hands.

 

�Your brother did not come here on business, at least of a nature which they would speak of with listless ambition in your homeland. He came to seek out and destroy the king of the vampires, that great force of darkness that feeds upon innocents in the night and steals their life�s blood as they yield it to him, that darkens his lips crimson and forces him into flight when the first shade of dawn appears on the horizon. He came,� and I turned, �to kill Dracula.�

 

Disbelieving horror was clearly written on his face as he stumbled backward, beholding me with an uncanny terror, but it was no illusion of the shadows. Beneath the curvaceous line of my lips as they came into a smile were two sharp fangs, white and pure beyond reckoning, and into my eyes had come a gleam of devious desire. I approached him slowly, the moonlight rippling over the contours of my flesh and descending in a silver tide to my feet, pooling in the sweep of my gown. �Eduardo,� I whispered, �do you believe now that there are perils in Transylvania?�

 

He fell back against the mirror and my hand followed, resting beside his head. Only then did he behold my lack of reflection, and a startled gasp something like a gurgle sounded deep in his throat. I did not attack. I wanted to see if there was anything of masculine ambition in him, to determine if it went beyond trembling horror into the force of his arm. He lifted the stake blindly, unable to look away from my beautifully demonic face. �You are nothing more than a devil from the pit,� he said in a tremor. �Go back to hell where you belong!�

 

Before the hand could descend, I caught it. With a rapid movement, I held him against me, facing the mirror so that he could behold his demise, neck bared to my intentions. �A devil I may be,� I whispered, �but it is you who will descend to hell!�

 

It was over in an instant, with a snap that left him lying in a heap at my feet. And from the echoing shadows of the gallery above, I heard solitary, approving applause.