Epilogue
Dracul held on to the bit of rock inside the catch with his bleeding fingertips eroding with each passing second. He ignored that loss of his flesh, as well as the pain. Fury made him strong. The thirst for vengeance had him drawing on a well of strength he’d not known he had. It wasn’t until the castle shook with an explosion that he finally lost his grip and plunged all the way down. The jagged stone shaft dug agonizing grooves along every part of his body.
He hit water and sank below. His lungs burned as he kicked his legs to bring him to the surface of the cistern. He gulped in a huge breath before sinking again. This time, he stayed longer, hiding from his enemies, in case they still searched for him.
More explosions reached his ears, telling him that they couldn’t possibly have remained, with the destruction they’d wreaked. He pushed up again and swam to the edge. He caught the scent of the ones who’d brought him down—both of them, the boy and the navigator. He grinned at the vision of tearing them limb from limb. It would happen. He needed only to regain his strength, then he’d go after them all, including Petru, the traitorous dog.
With the last of his strength, he pulled himself onto the stone floor. Darkness claimed him, and when next he opened his eyes, mismatched ones stared down at him.
Relieved by the sight, he forced words past his ravaged lips. “Hello, slut.”
The human smiled. “Master, I thought I’d lost you. I followed the other one and crept down here once they’d left.”
As tiresome as it was, he smiled up at the boy and praised him. “How very clever of you. I will have to come up with a suitable reward when I’m back to my full strength.”
The human’s strange eyes lit up. “You’re badly hurt, Master. I’ll help you.”
“Of course you will. Is there any danger of this collapsing on us?”
“I don’t think so, Master. They blew your arsenal and there are fires, but the stone is holding.”
“Good.” He tried to rise and grunted in anger and frustration when he fell back again. At least he landed on the slut’s lap and the boy was wearing one of Dracul’s robes, so it was worthy of cushioning his head.
“I need blood to regain my strength.”
“Master, please take mine.”
“That was the plan.” Dracul grinned. “I might drain you dry,” he warned as a test of how devoted his new slave was.
“I trust you,” the boy said, tilting his neck to expose his pale, slender neck.
“You shouldn’t.” With that warning issued, Dracul struck. He grabbed the boy’s shoulder and yanked him in tightly at the same moment his fangs sank deep into the proffered flesh.
He tugged the healing blood in with deep pulls. It nourished his hurts and fanned the flames of revenge sparking inside his heart. He would kill every one of them…eventually. This time, he would be more patient. He would be patient as he’d never been before, scheme and wait for the perfect opportunities.
The only problem was deciding on the order. Such a delightful predicament to have. In the meantime, he would drink his fill, then he would fuck the boy raw. After that, he would have to access his stored wealth, find a new place to live and start all over again—damn it. Ah well, the best-laid plans and all that. He couldn’t let this get him down. He was better than that.
He was better than all of them.