“You are powerless here, Vlad. Leave,” Ignatius said in a voice I had never heard him use before. It was a terrifyingly cold sound.

The specter faltered, growing dim. “I shall return,” Vlad warned. “I may be weak now, but I will return. You cannot keep me trapped forever, Glynis.”

“Yes, I can.” I lifted my chin defiantly. “And I will.”

Vlad’s manifestation laughed as it faded into the shadows. “This is not done between us,” he promised. His presence receded like a tide, leaving the room feeling cold and empty.

Crushing me against his chest, Ignatius said, “He is gone.”

“I thought it was a dream. Every night when I slept and he would come, I thought it was a dream.” My face felt numb and my heart fluttered in my bosom. The terrible truth of Vlad’s nightly visitations made me sick with disgust.

Loathe to return to the bed, we sank down onto the floor together. Ignatius held me as I wept. I felt sullied and grotesque, yet Ignatius held me as though I were precious. His long fingers raked through my hair as he kissed my brow and whispered sweet words of assurance.

“Do not torment yourself further over his sins,” Ignatius urged me. “You are not accountable for what he has done to you. We shall find a way to ward you against his intrusions.”

“I wish you did not have to leave me.” I saw that my tears were staining his chest and arms with blood. I felt ashamed of my weakness.

“I will return as swiftly as I can. That is my sacred promise to you.”

“How is he coming to me? Why is he doing it?”

Ignatius tilted my head so he could kiss my bloodied cheek. Then, his lips nuzzled against my skin, he said, “Vlad is more than a mere vampire. There have long been rumors that he studied the Black Arts. I suspect he is using some sort of spell to cast his spirit to torment you. And, perhaps, he is feeding from you somehow. I felt his power, Glynis. He is not as weakened as you hoped. Perhaps you should tell me what you did to him.”

Clasped in Ignatius’s arms, I told him everything that had happened after we departed Buda. I even told of the night I willingly gave into Vlad Dracula in my desperation to find some solace. Though Ignatius flinched, he did not pull away. Instead, he pressed kisses to my brow.

“The bond between a vampire and his fledgling is powerful, Glynis. He will try to use it against you to manipulate you.”

“In retrospect, I can see now how he suspected that you were my lover and altered his interaction with me in an attempt to seduce me from you. I admit I was a fool and for a short time believed he truly may have loved me.”

“He does. In his own way, he does love you.”

“It’s not true love. It wounds. It hurts so deeply. It makes me feel as though I am dying and lost. It is terrible and hateful.” My words flowed in a rush, tumbling over each other as I once more reminded myself of their truth.

“What happened next?”

In detail I described my confrontation with Cneajna, Vlad’s angry arrival, and my decision to rise against Vlad and vanquish him.

“I meant to kill him,” I confessed. “I wanted him to die so he could no longer kill those I love. Instead, he is in a torpor and trapped in his coffin. In his last moments, he willed his blood and power to me.”

“He plans to return.” Ignatius’s voice was weary and strained.

“That is what Magda also said. I feel foolish. I thought it was some grand gesture of his demented love.” I laughed bitterly, feeling like a fool. I would never truly love Vlad Dracula. He had murdered me and my family and enslaved me in my immortality. He had violated me, beaten me, and degraded me. But some naïve aspect of my psyche had craved some sort of truce. I had fooled myself briefly into believing there could be peace between us. Of course, there never could be. My desire for freedom and my love for Ignatius would always keep me from falling into the abyss of Vlad’s evil.

Lifting my chin, Ignatius’s dark blue eyes gazed solemnly into mine. “He believes he loves you and that endangers you even more than you can imagine. He will do everything he can to free himself from his entombment and reclaim you. I have borne witness to the terror his love brings upon his women.” The fear in Ignatius’s eyes was both a comfort and warning.

“Do not fear, Ignatius. I will not fall prey to his seductions.”

“It is not his seductions that worry me. It is the great lengths he will go to see that you are his.”

I brushed my lips against his cheek, feeling the slight black stubble of his beard against my mouth. His eyes bore lines of worry about them. I curled my body against him, my arms wrapped around his strong shoulders. He is leaner than Vlad, but his body is masculine and muscled. It is a reminder of our vastly different backgrounds. My softness comes from a life of privilege and his body from a life of hardship. Yet now we are equals in our love and our misery.

We are a fine pair.

“I am yours,” I whispered in his ear. “Always and forever. Of this I have no doubt.”

His smile washed away the tension in his face as he firmly kissed my lips. “Nor do I.”

At last we stumbled back to the bed and reclaimed it as our own. Again, I fell asleep in his arms.

Later-

I woke to the sound of whispering voices. Stirring, I realized I was alone in my bed. I rolled onto my side and gazed past the drapes of the canopy to see Ignatius and Magda speaking. She had apparently brought him a nightshirt and robe, which he now wore. His hair was mussed and his beard more visible, but he was still quite handsome as he smiled down at her.

“And he is doing well?”

“Astir has given him small tasks to do about the haven and has provided a tutor. I wish I could bring him here, but with things such as they are, I dare not,” Magda answered.

I could not help but smile. It is Ignatius’s nature to think of others. It was that aspect of his inner man that had brought us together. He had rescued me from the vampire hunters and sealed our fate. Sitting up, I cast off the coverlet and stretched my limbs.

“Night has come too soon,” I grumbled.

Magda hurried over to help me into my dressing gown, fussing with my tangled hair. “Oh, it shall be unmanageable tonight,” she lamented.

“I like it unfettered.” Ignatius reached past her to touch one curling lock.

My lips bowed upward as I gazed at him lovingly.

“You’re not the one who has to deal with it.” Magda gave him a sharp look and continued to try to bring order to my curls.

“He’s the one who mussed it.” I beamed as Magda threw up her hands in despair.

Chuckling, Ignatius lightly patted Magda’s shoulder. “I’m certain you shall work your magic and it shall be immaculate.”

“Her hair is just as difficult to deal with at times as she is,” Magda grumbled, but her affection for me tinged the harsh words.

“I am quite lovable.” I leaped from the bed.

Ignatius sat at my vanity, looking bemused. “Indeed you are, despite your many, terrible flaws.”

I furrowed my brow at him. He reached out to snag my wrist and draw me into his arms. I pretended to resist, but went to him willingly.

Despite his impending departure, I was happy. Sleeping in his arms and rising to see him fitting so comfortably into my life was a salve to my torture psyche. Though I enjoyed my friendships with Laura and Percy and my training times with Adem, I realized how terribly lonely I had been without Ignatius.

At my insistence, Magda prepared a bath for my lover and I lingered at his side as he sank into the warm water. Our conversation was superficial and lighthearted for we had spoken of the darker things during the day and set them behind us. Dwelling upon the difficulties and dangers of our situation would only dampen our spirits and we both seem inclined to enjoy our last moments together.

Dragging my fingers through the steaming water, I smiled with contentment.

“I am surprised you haven’t killed the baroness yet.” Ignatius’s wet hair clung to his neck and shoulders as Magda washed it.

“I wish she would,” Magda sniffed.

“Shush, you.” I pouted slightly. “It is in my best interests to not slaughter her, but to bring her close to me.”

“You’re plotting against her.” Ignatius nodded his head with understanding.

I simply shrugged, watching Magda pour warm water over Ignatius’s hair to rinse it. She was pleased with his appearance in my life, but I could tell she was anxious about his departure. It was Adem’s men who had brought in the water for the bath - not Csilla’s servants - in an attempt to keep word of Ignatius’s presence from reaching the ears of dangerous creatures.

“If I were, would you condemn me?” I tilted my head as I arched an eyebrow.

Shaking his damp head, he answered, “No. Just be wise about it.”

“I am a person of some intelligence.”

“Yes, and sometimes that is what frightens me. What does go on in that head of yours?” Regarding me thoughtfully, his face took on a grave expression.

“All sort of plots,” I admitted. “And thoughts about you.”