Wilhelmina A Novella (17 page)

‘You are young, and fresh. Yes, you do have much strength within you now, but it is uncontrollable. If you were to fight Elizabeth in the state you’re in now, you would become easily distracted and things would end very badly for you, very badly,’ Gregor said.

He took a step closer, but paused cautiously when my eyes caught his advances.

‘What happens to me shouldn’t matter to you at all,’ I sneered. ‘You don’t even have to come along if you’re too scared to look her in her eye. Just point me in the right direction.’

Gregor didn’t say anything as he gauged my eyes. I could only guess at what went on inside of his head as he studied my unyielding stance, but he was wasting time, precious time, and that anger, that
monster
inside of me, was beginning to grow restless.

‘I’ll find her myself,’ I said impatiently.

‘Wait,’ Gregor sighed. ‘I will take you to her, but you have to promise me that you will not endanger either of us with reckless impulses.’

I didn’t owe him anything but immunity from the wrath coming for Elizabeth Bathory. For now, at least. Once I evened out the story with the governess, I would have no further use for him. I didn’t even want him around on the way; I wanted to be alone with my thoughts, my memories of Charles, and my anger. But solitude would have to wait.

I went through the governess’ wardrobe and disgustingly admired her gorgeous hoops and garbs. I found one to my liking, an emerald green gown with an elegant frill to the fringes. Quite frankly, it was a piece of art. I slipped it over my obstinate flesh and felt the silky materials hug my body. It was the first time I’d felt normal,
free
, in quite some time.

We left shortly after dusk, and he led me into the nearby town where he taught me how to hunt like a skilled predator. He took me to a motel where he waited outside in the darkness as I waited for prey to come to me, and when I found what I was looking for I was supposed to follow said prey into his room and feed on him there.

Gregor was off to the saloon since that was where he was likely to find a suitable meal for himself.

Standing there on the motel porch, underneath the red kerosene lamps hanging from the rafters, it was hard to believe that anyone would simply be ‘drawn’ to me. No male visitor of the governess’ estate had ever shown much of an interest to my presence. Her lawyers, her workers and servants, they all thought me unmentionable. But surely enough there were men gawking in awe as though they had just seen a fallen star. I didn’t know why. I hadn’t seen myself in a mirror, but I knew that I was still the same old Wilhelmina I’d always been; wild hair and an awkward stance.

I had plenty of offers, but I felt strange standing there as a small crowd of men gazed at me like a slattern on display at the whorehouses of New Orleans. That, and they all seemed much more… revolting. The small details I would have overlooked before were suddenly
amplified
, even on the young boys I would’ve swooned over just weeks ago. I felt sick, and suddenly their souls were the last things on my mind.

That is until I saw brilliant golden curls draping over a young chiseled face. A young boy, maybe my own age, rode up to the crowd on a large mustang and beamed down at me with a sweet smile on his lips. I was not drawn to him with my eyes, for they alone spotted dozens of imperfections, but it was my heart that drew me through the crowd of onlookers to him as he heeled his horse to a halt.

My heart was nearly leaping out of my chest because those blonde coils and dimples reminded me so of Charles.

‘You look like you need rescuing,’ he winked.

‘I’ve never needed rescuing in my life, I can handle myself all right,’ I smiled back.

I heard his heart stop when he caught sight of my smile, and I batted my eyelashes as if on instinct. I felt warmth radiating from his body in waves, and he swallowed nervously as I approached. He smiled again, weakly, and nodded. He swung his leg over and got down from his horse as one of the motel attendants came to take the steed to the stables. As it walked by, it bucked a bit as I tried to stroke its mane. It didn’t seem to like me.

‘I’m Zachariah,’ he said as he took his hat off of his head and held it to his chest.

I nodded, at least I thought I had, but my movements were sorely muted now, and most of the time it looked like I hadn’t moved at all. I followed up with an exaggerated nod, more of a bow, and his smile grew.

‘I’m Wilhelmina,’ I said.

I panicked for a moment, wondering if I should have given him a false name, but he held out his elbow for me to take his arm.

‘A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Would you care to have a drink with me?’

‘I would love one,’ I said.

I slunk my arm through his. A jolt shot through his body as he felt my warm hands, and his heart beat erratically, but I tried to concentrate on his eyes and smile. I longed to rip his head off right then and there, but his smile and those tousled bangs saved his life every time the urge arose. I couldn’t fathom killing anything that reminded me of the man I loved. I was sure that my smile must have faded as I cried inside for Charles’ arm to hold, but if it did Zachariah never noticed.

On the way inside the motel, all of the men were whispering and wondering just how a scrawny boy like him had managed to sweet talk me so quickly. How grateful would they should be, I thought.

‘I hear tell they have an impressive bar at the Long Branch Saloon across the way,’ Zachariah offered.

‘Actually..’ I moved awkwardly since I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about bringing up the subject, and the words sounded so horribly cheap running through my brain that I wasn’t sure I could squeeze them through my teeth. But I soldiered on as the burn in my throat began to overwhelm my senses. ‘I was hoping for a different kind of company tonight.’

‘Ma’am?’

I wanted to back down that very moment. Damned I was already, what would it matter if I went on thirsty? The burn in my throat couldn’t even compare to the cracks in my hollow heart as I mourned inside at the sight of those dimples and his golden hair. But out of the corner of my eye I saw Gregor, standing just outside the entrance and watching intently. He was expecting me to finish this encounter in blood.

‘Why don’t you get a key and I’ll entertain you properly,’ I said.

I sounded like a common streetwalker. If I could vomit I was certain that this would be the moment. He was stunned for a moment, but then eagerly made his way up to the desk to ask about rates.

‘Don’t think of them as human, not anymore,’ Gregor whispered in my ear after ghosting to my side like a shadow. No one else seemed to notice his swift appearance. ‘They are food, they are no longer equals. Just kill him and make it quick.’

Gregor was gone by the time Zachariah came back with the room key. He took my hand and led me up the stairs, past the grand chandelier in the lobby, and up to the second floor. Alone, I could hear his heart beat faster, taste his sweet skin and salty sweat; I almost lunged forward to claw open his neck right then and there, but then I saw those broad shoulders and darker curls at the nape of his neck and I froze.

He opened the door quickly and stepped aside for me. The room was already lit by candlelight, and the balcony was open with a clear view of the shanty town alight in the night.

‘It’s a lot smaller than the rooms back home in Baton Rouge,’ Zachariah said as he locked the door behind him.

‘Spend a lot of time with girls in hotels?’ I asked.

‘No, ma’am, not at all,’ he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at his feet. ‘You’re my first.’

I turned to look at him as he hung his head a bit and looked up at me through his blonde hair.

‘Ever,’ he whispered.

I smiled, this time genuinely and tender. He was me, mere days ago as I asked Charles to prepare me for this life of mine. I could see the eager youth and innocence in his eyes.

‘Why me?’ I asked.

‘Ma’am?’

‘Out of all the pretty young girls in town, why did you stop your horse to talk to me?’ I asked.

Zachariah sat on the edge of the bed and ran a shaky hand through his hair. He held his hat earnestly and looked me in the eye as he told me something that stuck home.

‘Well, to tell you the truth miss, I thought –
think
– you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my entire life. A man could marry you and never know another woman existed because he’d never look away,’ he said.

I laughed a bit to myself and stroked his face.

‘You’re a sweet boy,’ I said.

My fingers grazed the pulsing veins on his neck; his blood called to my senses like the Sirens of old. I licked my lips and drew in his masculine musky scent as he took off his coat. I grabbed his wrist and stopped him as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He stared into my eyes, questioning my sudden change of heart.

‘You should wait. Wait for a sweet girl who’ll make you happy… Don’t just go for any harlot standing outside a motel,’ I said.

I granted him a small parting kiss on his forehead and left him aroused and dumbfounded on his bed as I exited the room. Something inside of me just couldn’t go through with the kill. The monster was aching, starved for blood, but something stronger stayed its hand from carrying out the deed. What that strength was, and where it came from, I couldn’t even begin to guess, but that was the last thing on my mind as I left the motel as quickly as I could.

Once I was on the street below, blending into the crowd like a black feather on a raven’s wing, I looked over my shoulder up to the balcony where Zachariah stood, watching me. He waved with a small smile, and I vanished out of sight. I ran through the town and into the surrounding forest, ripping through soil and bracken like a beast.

I sensed Gregor chasing closely behind, and I stopped to face him as he caught up.

‘If I am to travel with you I need you focused. You can’t concentrate on what’s important if you don’t feed.’

‘I couldn’t do it,’ I admitted.

‘Why not?’ Gregor asked. ‘That boy is no one, probably a small town idiot farmer.’

I didn’t answer, I couldn’t. I knew why I couldn’t kill him; it wasn’t just because he loosely shared some of Charles’ features, but because he reminded me of myself before the governess took what life was left inside of me. He reminded me of a side of myself that I never wanted to forget again.

‘Then this is a suicide mission.’

‘Like I told you before: if you don’t want to come with me then just tell me where to go and what to expect instead of keeping me in the dark,’ I growled.

Gregor sealed his lips and began to lead the way once more.

We tore through the dark wilderness, passing all manner of dear and wild cats like blurred ghosts in the night, I wondered just what was in this for him. It had never occurred to me to ask, but he was strangely determined to come along on this dangerous ‘suicide’ mission. I didn’t think about his motives for too long. I was far too fixated on finding the governess and clawing that eye right out her socket before I ripped her apart. I wanted her death to be as brutal as she deserved, and more.

We crossed the state line and crossed over from Louisiana into Texas. We ran along rivers until they ran off on their own courses, and crossed the Sabine Pass to head into the mainland. We passed sign after sign as we ran through county after county; Folks, Bell, Fayette, Edwards.

Gregor finally slowed down in Pecos County, and by the time we got to a town called Upton we were walking. We stuck to the shadows as we observed the night life in its toil and play. He led me swiftly into the residential area, and then into the trees once more.

Suddenly I could smell something sharp and fetid. It was her, I knew it was. She was here somewhere.

‘There,’ Gregor said quietly.

He pointed to a large manor that stood separately from the other homes with a large black iron gate. So, I thought, she had a backup plan to start over here in Texas. I was about to set out at a run, but he gripped my arm and held me back. ‘Don’t underestimate her, Wilhelmina. Elizabeth Bathory is strong and cunning; she can still win this fight if you’re not cautious.’

As much as I wanted to force my way into her home for roaring rage and boisterous carnage, I listened to Gregor simply because I’d never been in a fight, and I had no idea just what Elizabeth Bathory could do. We snuck around the gates and into the back yard where a garden that was nearly identical to the one at her Louisiana estate bloomed in the night. How fitting that she should die in the very scenery that Charles died; the place that she’d broken and shattered my life since I was thirteen years old, just because I was human and she thought she was above me.

Lights burned in the sitting room. I couldn’t smell the governess here, at least not as strongly as I had when we arrived. Gregor urged against it, but I was too curious. I peered through the windows of the home.

What I saw shook everything I thought I knew about Elizabeth Bathory.

10. Taken

‘Auntie, what are you doing here?’

A young woman with long blonde hair approached the fireplace with a platter in her slender hands. She sat the platter on the coffee table and lifted the kettle. She poured two cups and sat in a chair across from her visitor.