Page 33 of Dracula: Bound in Blood
As Jonathan reached the bottom of the stairs, he caught sight of Dracula waiting for him. The Count cut an imposing figure in the dim light, his aristocratic features set in an unreadable mask. His dark eyes were fathomless pools of beauty that fixedupon Jonathan with an intensity that made the young solicitor’s breath catch in his throat.
“A carriage awaits, Mr. Harker.” Dracula’s voice was low and melodious, a sound that sent shivers down Jonathan’s spine despite the coldness of his words.
Jonathan strode past the Count, their shoulders brushing briefly. That fleeting contact was enough to set his skin tingling. He pushed open the heavy oak doors and stepped out into the courtyard, the cool night air caressing his flushed cheeks.
A carriage waited before the castle gates, its black lacquered surface gleaming dully in the moonlight. The vehicle seemed almost alive, a creature of shadow poised to spirit Jonathan away from this realm of dark enchantment. Beside it stood the driver, a young man whose wide, darting eyes and trembling hands betrayed his fear of this cursed place.
The driver’s face was pale and drawn, his skin sallow in the wan light. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the chill in the air, and his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he swallowed. His ill-fitting livery hung loosely on his thin frame, as if he had lost weight during his journey to this forsaken castle.
The boy could have looked no more than eighteen.
A wicked idea formed in his mind. He would use this man’s fear to his advantage to thwart Dracula’s plans. “Do you know where you are boy?” Jonathan folded his arms and smirked.
“Y—Yes, sir. I—I’m here to take you directly to the station, sir.”
“We will be ready momentarily,” Dracula said as he waited by the doors. Most of Jonathan’s clothing was lost during that wretched Van Helsing’s attack, but once Dracula recovered, he personally went back to the site and gathered what he could find, his photographs and the pen he had always used. Surely, he knew Jonathan would not have left without those items. “Go and gather your items. I shall wait here.”
Jonathan glanced back at Dracula as he approached the carriage; the boy turned his gaze away from the beautiful blue eyes staring into him. “Do you know that this is a place of evil? That monsters prowl the darkness and made this place its home.”
“Stop teasing the child,” Dracula warned.
“Are you truly comfortable having creatures of darkness ride in your carriage?”
“Um…” The boy trembled at a loss for words.
“We might take over your mind, force you to drive us to a dark and secluded location so we could bite your neck and drink your blood!” Jonathan leaped onto the carriage and flashed his nonexistent fangs with all the theatrical villainy he could muster. “For I have acquired a taste for blood, and yours looks particularly... delicious!”
The effect was instantaneous. The driver’s already pale face turned ashen, his eyes widening to the point where the whites were visible all around. A strangled whimper escaped his throat as he stumbled backward in his haste to put distance between himself and the perceived monster before him.
“M-mercy!” the driver stammered, his voice cracking with terror. “P-please, I beg you! I have a family, a wife, and a child!”
The driver’s resolve crumbled entirely, and with a final, terrified yelp, he ordered the horses to move, much to Dracula’s dismay. Jonathan hopped off, so proud of himself as they watched the driver fly away from the castle grounds.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Jonathan burst into laughter. The sound echoed off the castle walls, a joyous counterpoint to the somber atmosphere that usually permeated the grounds. He turned to find Dracula standing behind him; one eyebrow arched in a mixture of amusement and disapproval.
“That wasn’t very kind, Mr. Harker,” the Count said, his tone carrying a hint of reproach.
Jonathan shrugged, still grinning broadly. “Perhaps not,” he admitted, “but it was undeniably effective. I daresay you’ll have a hard time finding another driver willing to brave these woods now.”
Dracula shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You do realize this means I’ll have to escort you to the train station myself?”
“I’m not leaving,” Jonathan said simply, turning back towards the castle.
He could hear Dracula’s footsteps behind him as he ascended the stairs, but he made it to the consort quarters and slipped inside closing the door firmly behind him.
A moment later, there was a knock.
“Jonathan.” Dracula’s voice was muffled through the heavy wood, but the underlying frustration was clear. “You’re behaving like a child.”
“I’m afraid I’m rather indecent at the moment, Count,” he called back, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his stomach.
There was a pause, and then Dracula spoke again, a hint of exasperation coloring his tone. “We are both men, Jonathan. Surely it doesn’t matter.”
Taking a deep breath, Jonathan opened the door. Dracula stepped inside, only to freeze at the sight before him. Jonathan stood at the door, completely naked as the day he was born, his pale skin luminous in the candlelight. His body was a study in contrasts - lean yet strong, vulnerable yet defiant.
“Well, Count?” Jonathan said, spreading his arms wide, exposing himself fully to Dracula’s gaze. “Will you be sending me to the train station like this?”
Dracula stared, his dark eyes roving over Jonathan’s form with an intensity that made the young man’s skin prickle with heat. For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing - Jonathan’s quick and shallow, Dracula’s deep and measured.