Perchance to Dream

Dracula

I betrayed my own position with the applause, moving away from the shadows and nearer the tall figure bending over the crumpled heap that was once Eduardo.  �Brava, my love, it was a sublime performance.�

Kelantha spun around sharply.

�I wonder, though, whether it was entirely from the intensity of the moment or somewhat rehearsed.�

�How long were you watching?� she asked evenly.

�Long enough to realize I ought to have spent the evening here. The feeding ground was hardly worthwhile.�

�Hardly worthwhile� too generous, but I was more intent on Kelantha�s puzzling countenance.  The predatory gleam had left her eyes, but her silent exultation was very evident. So poised, so stately, so unmistakably proud. There was something bewitching in her appearance, a tousled enchantress with a countenance of graceful youth. The crimson colored gown rustled as she absently tucked away a wayward strand of hair, breaking her perfect stature for one moment.  Absently I reached out to brush the ruffled locks away from her features, flushed as they were from her triumphs in both the hunt and the kill. She smiled faintly. My attempt to pull back was not permitted; she caught my wrist and held it, touching my hand to her face lightly. I held her gaze but could not return the smile. Still I pushed her hair aside, revealing the porcelain neck and paying my homage with a reverential kiss before turning from her. 

I had intended to leave before her inner voice spoke without the exchange of any words:

Do not leave.  Not like this, not tonight.

My eyes burned a path across the mirrored hall to where she stood. I have seen a very different look in her eyes, far from this gentle anticipation that cloaks her as she waits. Undisguised resentment is never difficult to recognize. How could it be? If I have turned the world and given it to her, it must also be said that another world was taken from her. So she would tell me, roundly and sharply. In her eyes she would be right. The resentment was innate and could not be absolved; I had accepted that. It was what prevented me from ever making another of my gifted and damned race. The centuries brought death and solitude yet never regret. To say I regretted changing Kelantha was grossly incorrect. Hers was a spirit unlike any I had come into contact with; I would not ascribe blame to myself in seeking to keep her. But I had to accept even eternal life was too narrow a field for her. 

And suddenly the distance between us was closed. She was leaning into me and I had instinctively wrapped my arms around her. Her face was hidden against my shoulder; my fingers had entwined themselves in her hair, a cascade of silken ebony that flowed unbound and uninhibited. Her shoulders shook only once, whether a release of sorrow or frustration I knew not. I held her closer, reassuring her with the slight pressure of my hand on the small of her back. We were absorbed in the moment; whatever my thoughts had been before, they diminished. I was aware only of the incessant pressure of her hands on my face as she made me look at her, of her lips against mine as she formed the words �It is enough.�

Did I carry her to the darkened chamber with its embroidered tapestries, or did she lead me? I could not tell. Time, for once, was not an element to be dismissed; each moment that bled into the next was a prolonged and delicious torment. It led down a river of perfumed limbs, perfectly aligned with mine and responsive to every searing caress. She was not indomitable then, but entirely my own, and she was all she had been in life�the light and the dark, passionate yet innocent, fiery yet controlled. Her hands roamed lazily over the expanse of my shoulders as she drew me nearer, arching against me and pulling me deeper into the relentless torrent that threatened to engulf us both. 

Had she chosen it would have been over directly, a volatile instant that succumbed at once and left breathlessly wanting in its own wake. I would not lose the dream as quickly as it had been realized; I would be left with only a memory of it before the dawn, but that memory would remain if the dream could not. Holding her tightly, I traced the curve of her neck with my lips slowly. I would follow as she led me but I would linger; and when lingering gave way to achievement, the dream heightened beyond what either of us had prepared for.

~

We were both lost before the dawn, for the sun had risen and still I held her. The heavy draperies prevented any of the daylight from breaking our artificial night, but sleep held no charm for me, and I remained with my thoughts. It was afternoon before she stirred; I looked down to find her dark eyes fastened on me. Without preamble I asked her, �Kelantha, how much have you traveled?�

�Before you replied to my letter favorably, when even I did not expect an answer, I presume?� She laughed faintly. �Not at all, except for London.�

�Did you not wish to see the countries you hurried through on your way to Bistritz?� I pursued, overlooking the saucy expression that was charmingly distracting.

�Truthfully, I recall several areas I did not think we could leave soon enough.�

�I see. Then you certainly would not be interested in Salzburg, Venice, Paris�Madrid.�

She sat up hastily.  �No, not Madrid.�

�Not even to see your family?�

�It is not the same.�

�You are entirely right, my dear; it is that perception I admire in you that does you credit. Still, though it is, as you mentioned, quite different, it strikes me that it is not wholly undesirable. You have not seen them in a while. They will begin to wonder what sort of brutish nobleman lured their daughter out to the Carpathians only to lock her up in a castle for all eternity.�

�It isn�t safe�surely you see that.�

�But that needn�t worry us; I am not implying we would cross numerous countries on foot.�

�No, it is not safe,� she repeated, urgently.  �My family, they are very�no, highly�religious. I was brought up in a deeply Catholic environment.�

�And so my darling fears introducing me to her family,� I mocked gently with a heavy sigh. �She is ashamed of me.�

She grinned in spite of herself. �This is no jest. They will never invite us for they would never allow evil in their household.�

�You do forget I myself was Catholic for a considerable interval.�

One dark eyebrow arched incredulously. �This will indeed impress them greatly.�

�What I am saying, my lovely, is that you are doubting your own abilities. They will be so delighted to have their precious girl back�� I drew her to me and nipped her neck lightly; she mildly laughed in protest, ��and to meet her charming husband, they will not notice much else. It is true�you have to ability to show them only what you wish them to see. People are all too willing.�

�It will never work,� she insisted, placing one hand on my chest and pushing me away gently. �All charm aside, we cannot go anywhere if they do not invite us. That, at least, is not debatable.�

�Yet I wager they will do so before the week is done.�

�It is impossible speaking to you,� she chided, smiling.

�Then don�t speak�you shall see soon enough,� I conceded, catching her before she could leave and ending all protests with a stirring kiss.

Three days later, the letter from Madrid was delivered in town.

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