Dracul (13 page)

Felix frowns. “So, the child of a third-type vampire and a first-type vampire would be…
less
biologically immortal?”

“They would be longer-lived and more resilient than their first-type parent, but they would also need to drink blood to stave off death. The proper execution method for all vampires, regardless of type, and especially when the true type is unknown or uncertain, is a stake through the heart.”

“Or decapitation,” Felix adds.

Constantine frowns. “Decapitation will kill the vampire, yes, but it will also release his blood. A proper, tapered stake through the heart should cause an injury that is self-sealing. That is to say, little blood will escape before the body turns to dust.”

“Vampires
do
turn to dust once killed, then?” I clarify. I’m familiar with the mythical tradition made famous by Bram Stoker’s vivid descriptions.

“Indeed. The weaker the type of vampire, the faster the rate of decay. It is as though they lack enough immortality to hold their form. All the pent up decay of their unnaturally-extended lives is finally released, and the body becomes what it would have been apart from its unnatural preservation.”

While Constantine has been using the white board, Felix has seated himself at the dining room table like a student in class. Now he raises his hand. “Decapitation would seem to be the faster, easier method of execution—there is far less precision involved.”

“Indeed.” Constantine acknowledges. “But vampire blood should be avoided whenever possible.”

“Why?” Felix asks.

Constantine puts the cap back on the dry erase marker he’s been using. He closes his eyes and bows his head. He’s quiet for several long seconds before he looks up and meets my eyes. “You recall from the
Viața
that Vlad Dracula and his brother Radu were subject and witness to various gruesome tortures during their captivity to the sultan, yes?”

I nod.

“Those tortures were, many of them, experiments on the part of the sultan’s magi—”

“Magi?” Felix clarifies

“Mages?” Constantine offers. “It is the same root as the word for
magician
, but that term has evolved to mean something different, more trickery than truth. You often see
magi
translated
wise men
.
Astrologers
, even, but they looked for patterns and portents not only in the stars, but within living creatures, and in the blood that defines them. The sultan’s magi performed experiments to determine the extent of the power of the blood of the immortal ones.”

“What did they find?” For the first time, Felix no longer sounds accusatory. If anything, his question holds a hint of trepidation.

“What they found could fill a book. Regrettably, it is not a book I have ever had an opportunity to read. Vlad Dracula has read it, or parts of it. I know secondhand of some of its contents—enough to know this: you do not want to decapitate a vampire. You want no contact with his blood. It is a powerful substance. It could undo you.”

Constantine’s words are enough to make me shudder, but Felix still seems bent on learning answers.

“Undo?”

“Humans who become vampires when bitten—it is not because of the fangs, but the transfer of blood that takes place in the biting. Vampirism is, if you will, a blood-borne disease. Any contact with a vampire’s blood carries the risk of infection—the risk of becoming a vampire.”

Felix exhales with a low whistle before asking, “Why did the sultan’s magi perform experiments on Vlad and his brother?”

“They are vampires.”

“Which kind?”

Constantine uncaps the dry erase marker in his hand. The tiny click echoes loudly as Felix and I wait for the answer. Constantine presses black ink against the fourth, empty column. “The rarest kind. The ultimate source of all other vampires. The most immortal, the most powerful.”

The room is silent but for the near-silent squeak of the marker against the board.

Angular letters spell out the words:

Born of

Human and

Dragon

Chapter Thirteen

For a long time, it’s all I can do to stare at the words.

Yes, on a certain level, I’ve always suspected…something like this. Between the Order of the Dragon and the
Dracul/Dracula
question, biological immortality and the whole winged flying thing, I figured there was a connection between what I am and what Vlad Dracula was supposed to be.

But I was right.

I’m not sure I want to be right.

When I’m finally able to look away from the words, I see Constantine watching me.

His eyes hold apology.

Before I can wonder why, Felix starts asking questions again.

“So, Vlad Dracula was the son of a dragon, literally?”

“Vladislaus Dracul was a dragon. His son, Vladislaus Dracula, was a vampire of the fourth type, the offspring of a dragon/human union.”

“That’s why the women rarely lived,” I realize aloud.

“A vampire is a difficult creature for a human woman to bear. I would never ask such a risk to be taken by any woman, certainly not any woman I care about.” Constantine makes eye contact with me for only the briefest fraction of a second before turning around and erasing everything he’s written on the board.

But in that fleeting glance I saw depths of things that cut through me to my heart. Apology, yes, but also yearning and resignation and regret.

Constantine draws the outline of a dragon in flight, wings outspread. “The dragon transmits to his offspring traits and abilities that are tempered by the biological limitations of the other parent. Whereas a dragon is a large winged reptile, the vampire’s form is influenced by the contribution of its mammalian genes. It retains the shape of the wing, the ability to fly, the ability to teleport and to transform, fangs and talons of diminutive size, and, in place of the skill of breathing fire, sonar. A useful trait, but not nearly as fun as fire.

“Vampires are possessed of other unique qualities that arise from this blending of genes. They are cold to the touch—that is different from being a cold-blooded reptile, mind you. If they were cold-blooded, they wouldn’t actually be able to function at their own typical body temperature. They are also extremely sensitive to sunlight.”

“I thought sunlight was supposed to make them evaporate,” Felix notes a common myth. “Isn’t that supposed to be one of the ways to destroy a vampire?”

“Actually,” Constantine explains, “that arises from a misunderstood observation. Sunlight is a useful tool for getting rid of vampires—by which I mean, if you are being pursued by vampires, flee to a sunny place or open the window curtains to let in the sun. The vampires cannot stand sunlight and will promptly teleport away. Witnesses to this phenomenon may have interpreted what they saw to mean the vampires had evaporated, when, in fact, they simply left. You can also use a mirror to reflect sunlight.”

“Is it true vampires don’t appear in mirrors?” I ask.

Constantine’s smirk is an amused one. “I can see myself in mirrors. If there is a type of vampire that cannot, I am unaware of it. My best guess about how that rumor began, is that mirrors may have been used to reflect bright sunlight upon vampires, who then teleported away to escape the light. You understand how rumors spread.” He shrugs.

“How many vampires are there?” Felix asks.

“In the world today?” Constantine clarifies.

Felix nods.

“I have no way of knowing. Vampires of the weakest type are relatively easy to make, and it’s entirely possible there are dozens or even hundreds at large right now—or could be dozens or hundreds within hours if a vampire felt compelled to go on a biting spree. There have been occasions historically when certain vampires have tried to create an army by biting as many people as they could. That rarely goes as planned. Biting a person only gives them the attributes of a vampire—it doesn’t automatically make them a willing mercenary. It tends to make them confused and angry, and while they might serve their master out of some distorted sense of allegiance, it never ends well.”

“But of the fourth type, or the third and fourth types,” Felix presses. “The true vampires with biological immortality. How many of those are there?”

Constantine inhales slowly and presses one finger to his lips. “I cannot say for certain, because some I assume to be dead, may not actually be verifiably dead, and some I presume to be alive may in fact have passed on, but at my last count of true vampires? Three.”

“Three?” I’m unable to completely hide the note of incredulity in my voice.

“That I know of,” Constantine insists. “There could be dozens, even hundreds I am unaware of. The world is large and vampires can be quite tiny. They can hide in bat form, they can become dormant, they can breed in secret. They can even arise almost by mistake should a dragon and human…”

“Speaking of dragons,” Felix begins as Constantine leaves the rest of his sentence unspoken. “You said Vlad Dracul belonged to the Order of the Dragon. Were the members of the Order all dragons?”

“I wish I knew the answer to that. I know Vlad Dracul was included because he was a dragon. The Order was a complicated game of smoke and mirrors, really. On the one hand, people feared dragons. So it could be useful to have a prince who belonged to an order of dragons—to be able to threaten the people that, what do you know? Your prince may well be a dragon. Or the prince of this neighboring kingdom, you need to learn to get along with him, because he may be a dragon.

“But at the same time, to be a dragon at that time in history—it was a dangerous thing. Knights were celebrated for slaying dragons. Men were sainted for killing dragons. To claim a person was a dragon—it was something you would not do to your worst enemy.”

I repeat the explanation my mom once gave me for the historical treatment of my species. “To claim a person was a dragon, was to mark him for death.”

“Precisely,” Constantine confirms. “Like most forms of power, it was a double-edged sword. It garnered respect, but also fear—the kind of fear that could lead to death. So, the Order of the Dragon was created as a way, first of all, to place dragons under the authority of a higher power. The dragons were held by their vows to the empire, but also to one another.”

“The best weapon against a dragon, is another dragon.” Felix quotes another lesson our parents taught us from dragon history.

“Yes. And by organizing them together, binding them on oath to one another, the empire was able to exact a measure of control over them, even if no one knew precisely who was or wasn’t a dragon. But at the same time, by association, the members of the order who were not truly dragons—as I suspect some, if not many of them, indeed were not—those members received the fear and respect of a true dragon.”

“Do you know of
any
who were actually dragons?” Felix presses, and I know exactly why. He’s been searching his whole life for more dragons. Lately, we all have. My two sisters and other brother were even fortunate enough to find dragons, fall in love with them, and marry.

Felix and I are still searching. Or Felix is, anyway. I’m more interested in finishing my thesis paper than finding a groom.

“Some, given what is known of their relatives, I
suspect
may have been dragons, though I have no proof of it.” Constantine shakes his head. “Not for certain. Some I am nearly certain were not. Others, I simply know too little about to even hazard a guess. It was all just a bit before my time, I’m afraid.”

We’re silent a moment. Felix strums his bare fingers on the tabletop (I made him take off his rings and hide them before I agreed to even call Constantine—we just can’t be too careful). My brother’s next question surprises me.

“If a vampire is the result of a dragon/human union, and a weaker vampire is the result of a vampire/human union, it makes me wonder—what would be the result of the union between a vampire and a dragon?”

Something like terror flashes across Constantine’s face so briefly I’m not completely sure it was actually there. He turns to the board again. “I have only known one, so I cannot say to what extent he was representative of his kind. Nonetheless, I can describe him.”

As he speaks, Constantine begins to draw a creature between the pictures of the dragon and the bat. This new creature has large wings, a human-like figure, horns growing from his head, and a spiked tail.

“More dragon than human, it is capable of flight in human form. It has the horns of a dragon, retains the fire of a dragon, and, like a dragon, becomes flushed with color when taking on any form other than that of a human. The individual I knew happened to turn bright red.”

He puts the lid back on the marker, and Felix and I are left staring at a character similar to those we’ve seen drawn countless times, from modern cartoons to ancient illustrations.

Constantine explains, “The individual I knew was a tortured creature. Misunderstood, mistreated, angry, but also fierce, powerful, and ambitious. I don’t know if his kind has a proper name, but I can tell you what his contemporaries called him: demon, devil, Dracula.”

“Dracula?” I repeat.

“He was Vlad Dracula’s son. Yes, in his later years, Vlad Dracula married a Hungarian princess, a full-blooded dragon. She bore him this child. Like his father before him, he was not afraid to demand respect, he did not hesitate to take his revenge when he felt he had been wronged. His reputation eventually led to the corruption of the translation of the Dracula name. Whereas always before it had meant
son of the dragon
, for those who knew him, the name came to mean
son of the demon
, or
son of the devil
.”

I knew about the Hungarian princess. From my research, I knew she and Vlad Dracula had a son, that his name is recorded very differently depending on the records one consults, that her name is not consistently recorded, nor was there ever any indication given that she was a dragon.

Then again, if ever there was such a record noted, I can’t help suspecting it was struck from memory by those who preferred to forget her and her son—especially if he was as devious as Constantine describes him as being.

“What happened to him?” Felix asks.

“He was biologically immortal by birth,” Constantine notes. “I can recall various occasions when great rewards were offered to anyone who could kill him. To my knowledge, the reward was never claimed.”

Felix and I exchange a long look. I can read my brother well, and I know he can read me. Right now, we’re having a silent conversation that consists mostly of
what have we gotten ourselves into? Is this devil still out there?
And,
is he the one behind the other vampires who attacked me?

But Constantine must be watching our faces, as well, because he rushes to reassure us. “I have not heard anything of him in almost a century. If he is still alive, he has learned to hide, to blend in. He is not focused on causing trouble, but on his own survival. There is no reason to fear.”

“Do you really think so?” I ask.

“He is a fascinating footnote of history. That is all. I only brought him up because the question was asked. But please—have I answered all your questions?”

“I guess,” Felix admits.

“Good. Then I have a question of my own. Felix?”

“Yes?”

“Has Rilla told you of our blackjack agreement?”

“Operation Bankroll? She mentioned it.”

“Good. Then you understand why it is advantageous to me to have a multiple-person team?”

“Sure.”

“Would you be willing to join my team?”

“Whoa,” I break into their conversation. “Felix isn’t legally old enough to gamble. You have to be twenty-one years old.”

“I can get him ID that says he’s twenty-one.”

“But that’s not ethical.”

“I have false ID. You didn’t have a problem with that.”

“But you need one because you’re five hundred years older than you look.” I round off the numbers with little accuracy. “Felix really is just as old as he looks, which is only nineteen.”

“I’m cool with it,” Felix agrees, in spite of my protests. He leans close and whispers in my ear, “I was going to have to get fake ID eventually, anyway. Why not now?” Then he turns and addresses Constantine at full volume. “I’m in.”

“Thank you, Felix. I really do appreciate it.” Constantine pulls out decks of cards. “What do you say we practice, hmm? Maybe we can win some money next weekend.”

So we play cards.

For the next week, we play cards every evening, and I’m almost able to forget about the dangers that surround us. No vampires show up, nobody gets attacked, nothing gets stolen. I don’t even see any sign of bats.

Maybe when they impaled Constantine, and he told them I don’t have the book, maybe they actually believed him and went away.

I doubt they’d give up so easily, but the only other explanation is that they’ve decided to fall back, regroup, and come at us from a different angle at a later date.

And while the second of those two options seems the more likely one to me, and could potentially result in a dangerous situation for us all, we can’t predict what that might be. So for the time being, we’re just glad they’re gone, and Felix and I get to focus on learning how to count cards and win money.