A disembodied voice announced arrivals and departures in a multitude of languages. The bright lights of the airport were all around her.
Yet she felt as if the world had darkened behind her, as if a shadow were following her. As she walked toward Customs, she stopped, swinging around, certain that footsteps right behind her were closing in on her. Panic almost overwhelmed her. She was convinced she was being followed, that she could feel hot breathfetid breathat her nape. Chills shivered up her spine.
She thought she heard her name whispered by a deep, mocking voice.
But when she turned, there was no one near her. Busy people, bored, anxious, were hurrying through the airport. No one seemed interested in her at all.
It was night again before she reached her final destination. And there, in the exquisite historic hotel, she felt the darkness again as she walked to her room.
She locked the door securely behind her, then waited, afraid, watching the door, wanting to believe she had worked with one too many an antisocial paranoid and their fears had simply rubbed off on her.
Nothing.
She turned away.
Then there was a sound, a clicking, as if someone were trying the door. And again, the whisper in her mind of her name. And something more.
Laughter.
You cant hide. Wherever you go, I will find you.
Are you coming with us? Mary demanded, her expression seductive as she sat on the edge of Jeremys bed at the former seventeenth-century monastery, now a youth hostel, where they were staying. I cant believe I got the invite. Some girl on the street just came up to me and started talking. Its a private club. Theres not even a sign on the door. She says people will be there from all over Europe. Its in the ruins of some old cathedral. There was a Hungarian couple in the café, and they said its almost impossible to get into the local club scene, especially the castle vampire parties. But I got an invitation. And get this. They supposedly brought in a famous dominatrix to be the hostess. Celebrities even come to Transylvania to show up at these parties. I guarantee you, its the coolest thing well do all year.
Mary was gorgeous, an energetic pixie with brilliant blue eyes and a cascade of wheat blond hair. Jeremy was old enough, however, to know that going out with him hadnt suddenly become the focus of her life. She wanted to get into this club, but she was scared, and she wanted friends with her.
In high school, he might have dropped everything to do what she wanted. Though hed never been a first-string player, hed made his way onto the football team just because she was a cheerleader. Hed learned the guitar because she loved musicians. Hed never set out to be one of the in-crowd, but somehow, in his quest for her approval, hed become one. Hed kept his own brand of morality, though, and that had somehow made him more desirableto all the girls but Mary.
He had to admit, hed chosen to attend Tulane, in New Orleans, largely because of her. But he was past that. He was twenty-two, ready to graduatewith honorsand either accept a decent job offer, or head off to grad school. He had gained four inches since his eighteenth birthday, and time spent in the college gym had actually given him shoulders and a chest. He was serious and studious, something Mary had always teased him about, but something other girls seemed to appreciate. Once, he had worshiped Mary, now he saw her from a clearer perspective, but he still loved her, just more realistically, so hed agreed to join her on this trip for their last spring break. Still, this wasnt exactly like visiting England, or even France or Italy.
This was Transylvania. They had started in Bucharest, explored Walachia before heading into Sighisoara and dining in the ancient homenow a restaurantwhere Vlad Tepes, the man whod become known as Dracula, had been born. They had strolled medieval towns, visited dozens of churches, heard about history and architecture. Their guides had all spoken English. The Romanians were no fools. Americans were willing to spend lots of money to travel, to feel a part of myth and mysteryand buy souvenirs.
There were twenty students in their group, and luckily everyone got on well. Even better, they had crossed paths with an international convention of psychologists a few days earlier, and one of them was Jessica Fraser, who hed met when shed given a lecture at school. She had spent her free afternoon with them, and even claimed to remember meeting him. He had to admit, hed developed a little bit of a crush on her. In fact, compared to her, Mary had started to seem kind of shallow and not at all interesting.
He had an uneasy feeling about this invitation of hers, too. Hed heard a little about the kind of parties she was talking about. Rumor had it that on top of the usual bondage scene, they were run by a group of people who actually believed that they were vampires.
Mary, I dont like it.
Dont be a wuss, Jeremy. Im a journalism major. Think what I can do with this story.
Marys idea of journalism had landed them in several uncomfortable situations already. For about six months, hed had an out, because hed gotten into a serious relationship with a pretty English major. But shed left the school when her mother got sick, and never returned. They had called each other every night for a while. Then the calls had become fewer and fewer. Even their e-mails had dwindled, until theyd finally drifted completely apart.
So here he was in Transylvania, and here was Mary, ready to use him again. No, that wasnt fair, he told himself. Shed always been a good friend.
I just dont think its a good idea.
She laughed. Oh, Jeremy. Come on. Youve been mourning Melissa too long. Whats the matter? Are you afraid you might get laid?
Mary, he murmured. He hated it when she talked that way, no matter how liberated the world was supposed to be.
Please, Jeremy. Ive read up the recent surge of private sex clubsthere was an article in the paper a few months back about one right in New Orleans. No sign on the door. People come from all over, because they can do what they want to do there.
Yeah. Have silly rituals and slice their thumbs and suck each others blood. Thats pathetic, Mary.
No, its not. No one is allowed to push anyone else into doing anything they dont want to do. The woman who wrote the article said she wasnt hit on as much there as at a bar.
Maybe shes old and ugly. And if there was already an article
Mary sighed. Jeremy, I want to take this story national. An exposéwhats going on here and in the States. Look, Im going, with or without you. I wont be going alone. Nancy agreed to come. But we need a guy. I mean, wed like to have a guy with us. And, if you dont go, what are you going to do? Play some dumb computer game all night?
Mary, I designed that game, and its going to get me a good job.
To his amazement, she took his hands, pleading. I want this story so badly, Jeremy. Please.
All right, fine. Ill go.
She jumped up, a brilliant smile on her face. I knew you wouldnt let me down. Ever.
Listen, Mary, when I say we have to leave
We leave. Fine. Now, quit worrying. I always land on my feet.
How do we get there? he demanded.
Its too cool. We head up that path toward the mountain, and we get picked up by a carriage. Mary shook her head, smiling. I still dont know why that girl invited me. I guess Im just lucky.
I guess youre just beautiful, he thought.
But he wanted her to be happy, so he kept his mouth shut. Hed go, but he still didnt like it.
He was still unhappy when Mary went to her room to change for the night. While she was gone, he went outside. The psychologists were all in the restored judicial palace across the street, now a four-star hotel.
He walked into the lobby and asked for Jessica Fraser, but she was already out for the evening.
What the hell was making him so uneasy?
Nervous enough that he wouldnt dream of letting Mary go alone.
And nervous enough to dread the fact he was going to go.
He hesitated, then left a note.
A precaution.
Someone needed to know where they had gone.
2
In the shadows, PowerPoint flashed a new image on the screen. The ancient lecture hall was filled, and Bryan MacAllistair was amazed that the many students gathered here from around the world had listened to him thus far in rapt silence. He was nearing the end of his lecture, only a few more points to make.
This is an eighteenth-century sketch of Katherine, Countess Valor, considered one of the greatest beauties of her time. She was charged with crimes so vile that the court records were sealed. Later, they were lost to a fire. Was she a real monster, or herself a victim of evil? Like Countess Bathory, she was a member of the aristocracy, and one of the many women to find riches as a mistress in the court of Louis XIV. History records a cult within his own house, members of his royal court who became involved in witchcraft. The lady in question is actually the focus of another lecture, but she has a connection to this area. She was condemned for witchcraft and murder but, miraculously, made an escape. Some say she turned to smoke and escaped between the bars of the Bastille. At the time, witch hunters could still make a living, and the price on her head was so high that she was hunted across the continent. The accepted belief was that she had made a pact with a demon, perhaps even Satan himself, in the guise of a fiend known as the Master. The Master, the legends say, is an anglicized form of an ancient Babylonian evil, a being sprung from the womb of the lamia, one of the very earliest vampire myths, a woman who sucked the life from infants. Its said that Katherine escaped here, to Transylvania, where the Master had gained a foothold, seeking his help, his power.
But perhaps this creature had become infuriated with her previous disregard of his power in her own pursuits, for he did not come to her aid when she reached these fog-shrouded mountains. The witch hunters found her here. She had run hard and fast, but with no followers, she had no guard to watch over her as she slept. The witch hunters came upon her, and they immediately axed her beautiful neck. The story goes that there was a hideous outcry from her deadly lips, and she spilled more blood than might have filled the veins of a dozen good women. Not satisfied that the removal of her head would keep her evil at bay, they chopped her into pieces, then burned those pieces in an inferno they kept going for thirteen days and thirteen nights, thirteen being the number of members in a coven, the number of diners at the ill-fated last supper, when Christ was betrayed. At any rate, there was little doubt she was dead when her pursuers finished with her.
Did she in life really consume the blood of countless virgins in order to perform magic not only for the nobility but for the king himself? Or was she the victim of jealous rumor, and did time itself create the monster? That is the question we all must answer for ourselves.
He waved to the crowd of spring-break students who had filled the old guildhall and headed down from the podium. As he walked, he was met with a thunder of applause. He hurried down the aisle, anxious to escape. Ostensibly, he had come to teach; he was actually on the trail of the monster.
When hed found out he was coming to Transylvania, hed promised his friend, Robert Walker, dean of history at the local university, that he would give a speech. But hed had to sandwich it in between his commitments and now he was running late.
He had done a lot of traveling lately, he reflected, watching what seemed to be the awakening of an ancient evil.
He left the guildhall behind and reached the large village square. And there, despite his haste, he paused and looked up. The sky seemed to be roiling. There was a moon, not a full moon, but a crescent. It gave scant light, and even that was extinguished when the clouds moved over it.
There was a hint of red in the moons glow, and even in the shadows when that glow was gone. He didnt like the night. Hed spent most of his life traveling, studying the evils one man did to another in the name of belief.
He picked up his pace, eager to reach his hotel.
In the lobby, he paused, feeling the sense that somethingsomeonewas there. He turned around. Nothing. No one. It didnt matter. Hed received enough of a warning when hed been in London. He knew what he was facing.
Professor, your key, the young man behind the desk said.
Thank you, he murmured.
Again, he looked around the lobby.
Then he reminded himself that he was out of time, and he hurried up the stairs.
Jessica sipped her wine, staring at the fire burning in the grate. The flames fascinated her, rising, falling, lapping at the ancient stone of the hearth. Gold, red, even a touch of blue
Dont you agree, Miss Fraser? That society itself has created so many of the difficulties our children face? Society and the modern world, with its bombs and wars?
She stared across at the sturdy German professor who had spoken to her. They had been talking about dealing with teenage angst. She blinked, realizing she didnt have the least idea what he had said in the last few minutes. That morning, she had given her speech. She had been asked to speak about teenage fantasies, and setting troubled youth on the right path. The German had been quizzing her endlessly, it seemed, apparently quite taken by her ideas.
She had to get out.
Why? she taunted herself. Why was she so eager to escape into the night when she was suddenly afraid of shadows?
Confront your fears. It was one of her own doctrines.
A very difficult time, yes, she agreed, and rose, smiling. Watching the fire had been like an opiate. She felt positively serene.
Surrounded bynormalcy.
Excuse me, will you? Its a bit late, and Im feeling a bit jet-lagged suddenly. Good night.
The desperate urge to escapeeven to hidewas on her again. She had to force herself not to run out of the restaurant.
She looked at her watch, disturbed to see it had grown later than she had expected. She started briskly walking across the square to her hotel.
Confront your fears. She had done so, hadnt she? She would do so.
In the middle of the square, she found herself pausing. She looked up at the sky and shuddered. The night was red.
She heard something and swung around. Her breath eased from her lungs. It was just an old couple, hand in hand, out for a stroll. She turned and started walking again. Her nape grew cold. Ice cold. It felt as if the darkness was following her. Looming ever closerjust a breath away. She spun around. The square was empty. She quickened her pace, trying to be calm, logical, attempting not to give in to sheer insanity and run.
Light blazed from her hotel. She was almost running as she neared the entry.