Free Covenant With the Vampire by Jeanne Kalogridis

like an opal.
    Beneath my white breast, he cupped his whiter hand (God forgive me! but as
I write these words, I am overcome; shame wars with rapture. If he were here
now, I would guide his hand myself!) and brushed his cold red lips over my skin,
past the hollow of my collarbone, down between my breasts. For a moment he lingered
there, and I buried my fingers in his thick hair and pressed him hard against
me. He straightened suddenly, trembling as though he could bear to be denied
no longer, and fastened his lips upon my neck. I felt his tongue sweep lightly,
languidly against my skin, and then the pressure of his teeth.
    He poised, waiting.
    I am a sheltered woman. I know nothing of life and love, and so the details
of my dream beyond this were vague. I know only that I felt a sharp pain, and
then a flood of rapturous warmth, as if I were melting like wax in the presence
of such animal heat. I felt that he and I were one, that the very essence of
my being swelled like a wave and flowed out towards him as it crested and broke.
I cried out and struggled altogether free of the nightgown, then twined my arms
and legs about him and held on so tightly that not a millimeter of space remained
between our bodies.
    How long this ecstasy continued, I cannot say, but I know I lay overwhelmed
in his arms, aware of nothing but a languid pleasure that pulsated to the rhythm
of my beating heart. When at last he withdrew, I sensed he did so unsatiated,
for my sake, choosing instead only to dim his longing rather than appease it.
    My cheeks burn now like a new bride recalling her wedding night! The event
had such an air of reality that even now I grow confused whether it actually
happened or not; I woke shivering this morning to find myself entirely indecent
and unclothed upon the bed, with the sheets thrown back and the nightgown lying
in a heap on the floor near the window.
    I feel closer to Uncle than ever, as if he and I truly share this wicked, marvelous
secret.
    Writing this, I feel bold as a harlot. Did I say I wanted forgiveness? No more!
My life has been so barren and sad; whether it be the worst sort of evil or
not, whether it be sickness, madness, delusion, I will not deny myself the brightest
joy I have ever known. The risk of Hell is worth such happiness. Brutus shall
remain in the kitchen tonight, and I shall sleep with the windows open, "perchance
to dream."
    If he goes to England, I shall die!

Chapter 3
    Letter to Matthew P. Jeffries
    [dictated and translated from the Roumanian]
    7 April My Friend,
    Welcome to the Carpathians. I was keenly disappointed to receive news of
your postponed arrival, but all things work for good; there has been illness
in the castle and it is just as well your visit was delayed.
    However, now the timing could not be better! I received your letter from
Vienna saying that you would arrive in Bistritz the evening of the eighth. This
letter shall await you
-
as I do most anxiously. Sleep well tonight,
for tomorrow morning, 9 April, the diligence for Bucovina will depart at eight.
My coachman will meet you at the Borgo Pass and will bring you to me.
    Your proposed
Times
article sounds most intriguing. I would be
happy to provide whatever useful information I can and look forward to our conversations
on the subject.
    May you meet with no further travel difficulties, and may you enjoy your
stay in my beautiful land.
    Your friend, Vlad Dracula
    * * *
    The Journal of Mary Windham Tsepesh
    8 April.
    Dear God, what shall I say to my husband?
    I sense that something terrible has happened recently, something to add to
his grief over his father's death. I believe he and Vlad have had an argument,
or that he has made some shocking discovery at the castle.
    Certainly, it can be no more shocking than the one I have made.
    I had divined at once that Zsuzsanna was infatuated with her uncle, and that
he did nothing to discourage her - to the